I mentioned to Kasey, my mobility trainer, that I have been having trouble on the way home from work, since it has been getting darker and darker as the days go by. He said that he wanted to show me some tools that could help me. He could not fool me by using the word “tools.” I knew that he meant that he wants to show me a cane. I am repulsed by the idea.
Even though I work with a lot of very nice, wonderful, strong, independent people who use canes, I just can not imagine joining their ranks. I know all the things Kasey is going to say to me – It’s only for times that I’m out after dusk. It’s only a small ID cane. I can fold it right up and keep it in my purse. It’s all about being independent and safe. I know all of these things in my head. Still, I can’t quite give in to this next step.
I have been a good sport about this vision deterioration, a really good sport. I have adapted to not being able to curl up with a good book. I have learned to use adaptive technology at work. I have embraced riding the bus instead of driving. I have worked really hard to find blessings every step of the way. But this one is getting the best of me. I am so hesitant to touch a cane, to use a cane, to OWN a cane.
I have a meeting with Kasey on Tuesday, so I had better take these next few days to seriously reconcile myself to the fact that I am going to be offered a blind ID cane. I know he won’t force me to take it, but he is going to be very encouraging. Over the next couple of days, I need to think about safety and independence and vanity and stubbornness. I need to think about what blessings might be in store for me if I take this next step. So far, on this journey to low vision, every step has offered multiple blessings. Now, I need to ask myself whether I trust God’s grace enough to believe that this next step also has blessings to offer, blessings I can not even imagine, blessings that I can not yet see.