That’s Why I Blog

Because of the things I see everyday, in the routine pattern of our lives, that my daughter, Shantel can’t see. The things that strike up conversations between Shantel and I as we make our way along our 40 minute route from our house to South Mountain Community College.

Like the high school girl who walks along the same Blvd that Shantel and I travel every morning. This girl has beautiful, waist long hair, wears shorts with an army jacket, and stops by the same Oleander bush to pick a small bunch of white flowers she carries with her along her way. Shantel and I wonder who she is taking the flowers to or if she just picks them for herself?

Like the middle-aged, black man, that lives in the first trailer on the north side of the Blvd, with the old, white, beat-up, pick-up truck parked beside it with teddy bears lined up all across the hood, who stands out in the cold, in shorts and a sweat shirt, waving to the passing traffic. Shantel and I wonder if he has everything he needs and enough to eat.

Like the mother walking her middle school aged daughter to school everyday carrying both her lunch and her daughter’s lunch boxes, and sometimes what looks to be a science project. Shantel and I wonder if she is a single mother raising her daughter alone and if they walk to school in the cold and sometimes dark because they have to or because they just want too?

Like the elderly woman and man I see every morning holding hands as they huddle close together walking as fast as they can to get to wherever they go every morning between 6:30 & 7:00 A.M. They were always together, until last week, when it was just the woman, walking alone, and Shantel and I wondered what happened to the elderly man?

Like the short, thin, man who always wears a blue t-shirt and white cap, and walks very fast down 48th Street. I see him every morning either walking North when I am taking Shantel to school or walking South when I am driving back after I drop Shantel off at school. Shantel and I wonder where that man goes in such a hurry every morning and why he doesn’t drive or take a bus?

Raising a blind child is not ever easy. In fact it is a renewing heartache almost everyday as I realize more and more the things Shantel misses that so many of us take for granted. But, there is also a renewing blessing everyday for me. Her blindness made me slow down and take notice of the everyday things around me. Things I took for granted, things I often walked right by without so much as a passing glance, until I became Shantel’s eyes in our everyday life, and realized I have a powerful role to play in Shantel’s life outside of being her mother and loving her and caring for her and making sure she had a solid foundation on which to build her own life. I also need to make sure she is included in the everyday sameness, routine, and pattern of our lives together, the sameness and routines that my husband, Bill, and I see that she can’t see. Because, to me, it is the everyday sameness and routines, that come together to make a lifetime of memories, memories other’s capture in pictures. Pictures that Shantel can’t see. So I capture our everyday memories in words. Words for my beautiful daughter, Shantel, so she will have them always to read and reread whenever she wants to remember the everyday patterns and routines of our lives.

The added bonus for me in my blogging is if anyone reading my blog finds help or inspiration in their daily lives then hey, I get two joys for the price of one:)

That’s why I blog!

Stay Tuned!

4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Ellen Kaufman
    Nov 29, 2012 @ 22:45:56

    The blogs you leave for Shantel will make wonderful memories. Such a beautiful gift of love to share.


  2. gotham girl
    Nov 30, 2012 @ 00:13:50

    And this my dear is why I LOVE reading your blog! Your stories and your unique perspective of being a mother to a sight impaired child who is growing up to be a lovely young woman! You and your man (my bro!) are priceless! xoxo MORE!

    P.S. Wonderful people observations. Oh how I would love to photograph them! Ha!


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