Saturday, April 19, 2014

Rise and Shine

Happy Easter 2014

Heaven Opens to the Left



My lawn man explained his father’s passing this way.  “All of dad’s children, grandchildren, and his wife gathered bedside.  We sat vigil as he struggled while fighting passing over.  The room felt highly agitated so my one year old daughter reacted by being extremely active.  She wasn’t whiney just nervous busy.”
“Suddenly, for no apparent reason, my little girl stopped touching everything in sight looking at her grandfather.  Both of their faces seemed to glow in unison as he opened his eyes calmly locking his stare to hers.” He continued his monolog, “The baby glowed as if she was a Cherub as my father slowly reached high.”
His story provided more details; “We thought dad wanted to hold his grandchild one last time but his arms were high and to the left.  She remained to his right shining with a huge smile.  He passed right after a sunny feeling entered the room; the atmosphere and my baby remained radiant for a bit after my father was pronounced dead.  Then, the area went back to normal, and we felt grief stricken.”
I entered his monolog, “The Hospice nurses that cared for my mother before her death said they think Heaven opens to the left because many souls praise their Creator with hands held high into the air and that direction.”
Amazed while analyzing quickly, the man responded, “That notion makes sense because ‘no one can come to the Father except through me (Jesus).’  If the thrones of Heaven face you as you die, the Lord sits to the right of God the Father. Heaven opens to the left as the passing soul faces those thrones. Thus, the person would reach high and towards the Son because God’s mercy comes from that man’s victory over death; our chance at eternal life comes from His direction!”
In unison, we agreed, “Heaven opens to the left.”
And- eventually- it unlocks to all those left behind if we follow his direction (Biblical teachings) as well as direction.  (John 14:16)




Saturday, March 29, 2014

End of Benchmark 1


As of the end of March 2014, there will be no more installments of this blog.  If you want to know where this vision is headed and where it ends, e-mail me for details at



mchanson714@yahoo.com






Continuing... The Vision


Eventually, my day at the doctor’s office arrived. My two siblings weren’t in the mood to get ready to go to our cousins’ house, again.  They goofed around all morning instead of preparing to leave.  Then, Penny strolled slowly out of the car, and Owen mimicked her.  As she stood on the stoop of our relatives’ home, my sister bellowed, “Don’t leave me, mom!  Let daddy take her to the doctor, please!”  After a brief battle and plenty of hugs, my parents left with me in tow.  Such a monumental event, such as the blind being able to see, required both parents to witness the occasion.

From the doctor’s parking lot to his front door, my mother guided my steps, “Okay, step up on the curb!”

“Pretty sandals,” My eyes noticed while searching around my deteriorating bandages.

~*~

“If you were previously blind, how did you know she wore shoes much less sandals?” My park pal interjected.

“In the past, I recognized and learned objects the hard way by placing one hand over one eye and pressing hard to block the sight from that location.  Then, I’d blink until my focus almost cleared.  Larger shapes and items were readily noticeable but their details remained hidden from my view.”

My explanation made sense so my companion allowed me to finish my thoughts.

~*~

Today, the thing on my mother’s feet stood out as vividly as bigger stuff from my past experiences seeing this world.  In other words, my sight wasn’t perfect- operation or not- but I could see something.

“She noticed your shoes!”  My father stated after my claim about my eyes’ ability.

“It was just a good guess.  I always wear sandals; it’s Florida!”

“Maybe, she can see better than you’re giving her credit for!” He warned.

“She has bandages in the way!”  My mother retorted.

“The sandals are new.  They’re pink like the flowers in your dress,” I spoke out, again.

Suddenly, my self-assured mom’s hand trembled; my body felt it.  “She can see!”  There was a silence as my parents must have exchanged all-knowing looks.  “Wonder how?”

“I look out these cracks!”  My exclamation gloated as my head titled upwards.

We went in to see the doctor within minutes of arriving because my siblings made us late.  A familiar voice spoke, “Okay, Dear!  Let’s cut those bandages off to see if we can see!”

“I can see! Can’t you?”  My naivety showed.

“Of course!” He was busy cutting then added, “You can see light, now?”

“Shadows, too!  If I tilt my head like this, my eyes can see better!”

“Honey, stay still until I finish with the scissors!” The doctor gently warned.

“She claimed vision a week ago!”  My dad interjected almost scoffing.

“More than likely there’s truth in what she says.  I used dissolving stitches; they’re a new product on the market.  Obviously, they did their job while disintegrating.  I hoped they’d disappear by now; it makes my job easier.”  Then, he commanded his nurse, “Turn down the lights.  We don’t want to blind her!”

“Blind!” My voice screeched.

“I doubt it!” The doctor held my hand calmly then removed the final pads from each eye.  “I want to take the light up slowly so your eyes can adjust.  Close your eyes for me, honey!” They played along.  Then, he added, “Now, open your eyes slowly, and tell me how many fingers I have up.”

There was a soft light behind his shoulders, and it helped me count.  It helped that I knew my numbers from one to ten already, “Two!”

“And, now!” His light in his hand converged on my face.

“Ugh!  That light!”  My mouth exclaimed while blinking uncontrolled as my eyes poured water like a sudden rain storm.

“Uh, huh!” He finished a task undaunted. “And, now?”

“A light beam in my eyes.  How should I know?”

“And now?”

“Still two!”

“And, now!”  He waved all five to the nurse to bring the light in the office to normal.

“Still two! No, five!”

~*~

“How did you know how to count numbers?” Diane felt the urge for more clarification.

“Mom taught me with my own hands and fully operational ears!  Due to my quick responses, I pulled from all my knowledge to answer the doctor!”  My voice boomed as I rejoined my previous tale.

~*~

My surgeon warned, “It may be blurred as the lights come up!”

“I see you!”

“How well?”

This doctor sat so close that he practically breathed down my neck.  Since I wore glasses from time to time before they realized they’d never work without surgery, my mind immediately knew what my eyes saw, “You’re wearing glasses on the very end of your nose.” I tried to show him how well and clear my eyes saw.  Looking around, my tone gloated, “See! I told you your dress had flowers, and your shoes match!”

“She’s pretty much cured! Almost normal vision!”  He declared to my awestruck parents.  “For a few weeks, Hope should be gradually introduced to the sunshine.  Start with sunglasses outside and normal glasses indoors.  She will adjust, slowly.”

“If she goes outside without sunglasses, what can happen?”  My nervous dad asked.  “I mean after all your work, will she go blind?”

After a short chuckle, “I think her normal reaction would be to squint to protect her sight.  However, don’t put too much pressure on her eyes these first few weeks.  The sunglasses are so she can adjust slower.  I doubt she’ll go blind, again.”

~*~

“Great news,” My friend’s voice applauded this outcome.

“The bad news followed within weeks; the operation didn’t fully fix my ability to see.”

~*~

Before Diane asked for a good explanation, rattling off events from the day of my new vision continued.  Singularly, each eye produced twenty-twenty vision but during teamwork another thing occurred.  Sometimes, my eyesight doubled the items while skewing like images apart.  Other times, details between my nose or in my peripheral area disappeared completely from my view; my eyes wore invisible blinders.  My ability to see suffered just not as much as in the past.  Winking one eye helped me focus, which allowed sharp true images to come into my view.

Quickly, I understood what was missing before my operation.  However, I’d wear glasses fulltime to keep from over taxing my muscles and reversing the procedure.  Plus, prisms and adjustments in the lenses would keep the eyes straighter so they could adjust to working as a team instead of separately. This teamwork didn’t occur overnight; it took years to master along with plenty of winking and blinking to push two objects back to one.  Other coping mechanisms became keen in my repertoire as well.

~*~

“So, it wasn’t a perfect vision at first!” Diane surmised.

“Far from it!”  Laughter escaped my lips, “But, believe it or not, my eyes were mending and would produce better and better vision over time!”  I thought about my past coming up with a final speculation concerning what this portion of my young life taught me.

“You grabbed hold of the good news during rough situations?” My pseudo soul mate stated the obvious.

“Yes, I latched on to hope!”

“Such as?”

Bringing my past to my present, my declaration arrived, “The good news about being temporarily legally blind included developing my other senses.  My mind instinctively analyzed situations beyond superficial details.”

~*~

Mumbling to myself without provocation from my partner, my logic added, “Plus, empathy especially for anyone handicapped or in a minority of one evolved for me as well.  It could have been worse if I had been born before this era. My eyes might never have had their vision.  My soul felt blessed.”  With that thought spoken aloud, we left the bench that day.  My final thoughts on the subject remained in mind even if unspoken.

Since the year of my eye surgery, I lived with hope.  Even if it sometimes hid behind despair or discouragement; my soul always found it- again.



As of the end of March 2014, there will be no more installments of this blog.  If you want to know where this vision is headed and where it ends, e-mail me for details at


Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Is My New Vision Cheating Fate?






In March 2014, there will be one more installment of this blog.  If you want to know where this vision is headed and where it ends, e-mail me for details at



mchanson714@yahoo.com






Continuing... The Vision




As the day or night wore on, my father withdrew to a corner of my room.  Eventually, my physical needs broke his isolation.  “I need to use the potty, Daddy!”



The restroom was a public one in this older building.  We had to enter the hall of plagues to allow me the relief my body demanded. “Make sure you take me to the girl’s room!” I waited too long to make my feelings clear, “Faster, Daddy! I really have to go!”  Dad seemed nervous as people breezed by us in the halls.  As we approached the toilets, my remarks warned, “This better be the right pace, Daddy!”  I was sure it wasn’t. “Are we in the girl’s bathrooms?”



“Don’t worry about it!  No one else is here!”  My psyche discovered that my father took the easy way out.  This time, I let him as my body found its release and relief.



It could have been a rainy or sunny day.  It might have been nighttime.  I had to trust them when the nurses put me in a wheel chair the next day.  They brought me to a waiting car.  It was my family’s vehicle.  “We have to go get your sister and brother from the ballpark!” My mom immediately spoke, assuring me that I arrived to the right place.  My siblings spent time with my cousins while I lived at the hospital.



It must have been high noon at this playing field because I sat in the empty car dropping buckets of sweat into the upholstery.  The salty hotdogs and popcorn, of this recreational area, were no match to the smell of my perspiration! Calling out in desperation, “It’s getting hot in here!”



“Mom is on her way,” Dad scolded my outburst feeling the heat as well ramped up his reaction.



Soon, my ears heard giggling and the sound of dancing feet.  As my cousins and siblings approached, my eyes couldn’t see them but my soul felt their presence.  Each voice echoed distinctly and each step pounded the pavement as uniquely theirs.  My arms tried to reach out for hugs as the children backed away.  Shock filled the air.  The kids were fearful of my appearance.  My sudden isolation distressed me.  Tears burned my scar tissue as my spirit felt the loneliness of the hallways invade my spirit.



Weeks later, light shattered my lonely, dark world.  It started as a glimmer at first but both eyes could see from around the edges of the bandages.  Lifting my head at an upward angle, my eyes could make out shadows of things such as my hand complete with five fingers.  The figures weren’t as clear as the blur before surgery but my mind knew the light wouldn’t blind me.  At breakfast, my mouth bellowed an announcement, “I can see!”



After my family’s laughter subsided, I explained the shadowy figures and objects forming in my mind.  A pat on my head assured me that my mom wasn’t amused or even curious with my pronouncement.  “You go to the doctor in a week.  He’ll decide then if you can see!”



“But, I can! Not as good as before but…” My voice hesitated as my next thought flew from my lips, “Take these bandages off; I’ll prove it!”



“You leave them alone until your doctor‘s appointment!”  She scolded as if my hands could even reach my eyes with the splints over my elbows.  She definitely possessed a stronger personality than my nervous dad.



Superficially defeated, I wandered around the house trying to decide what the light helped me see.  “Couch! Chair! Broom!” I named the objects.



“She can see,” My brother declared.



“No, she is touching the things.  That is how she knows what they are!” My sister debated.



“I can see!”  My voice loudly exclaimed being highly agitated by their disbelief.



“Sure! Sure!”  My sister, Penny condescended.



“I can prove it!”



“How?” My brother, Owen questioned.



“Let’s play hide and seek!” Instantaneously, my suggestion fell from my mind to my mouth.



“Fine, you’re it!” My siblings answered in unison immediately disappearing from view.



To be fair, my mouth counted aloud.  Then, my mind analyzed potentially good hiding places indoors.  I found my siblings so quickly that my sister ran to tell on me, “Mom!”  She bellowed.  Moving on her heels, we encountered our mother; my sister continued her tirade, “Hope is cheating at the game!”



“What game?”



“Were playing hide and seek.  Hope must have kept her eyes open because she found us too quick!”



It was hard to see facial expressions through the bandage’s shadows but my mind knew stern when my ears heard it. “She couldn’t possibly see where you hid!  She just guessed well!”



Penny snorted my direction as indignantly as possible; she felt sure someone cheated her.  Ever since my operation, my problems and health were the center of my family’s attention.  In my parent’s view and my current state, their blind child could do no wrong.  Between my siblings and me, there was hostility in the air; it started that day at the ballpark.  Their tempers were thicker than any humidity ever encountered in my short lifetime and hotter than any summer day I ever lived through.



“Cheater! Cheater!” My sis chanted as she swished past me. My mother ignored my sister’s reaction and ridicule, which added to our tension.  After that, my sis found every chance to lead a rally against me.



“Yeah, cheater!” My brother followed with a poor choice in leaders.



BEWARE:

In March 2014, there will be one more installment of this blog.  If you want to know where this vision is headed and where it ends, e-mail me for details at
 
mchanson714@yahoo.com