by Amy Bovairde
This Christian author and motivational speaker shares her humorous experiences with vision loss. She describes accidents she had as a teen-ager while learning to drive and even as an adult, which makes readers wonder whether she was already starting to lose her vision before she was diagnosed with Retinitis Pigmentosa. She talks about her teaching and world travels: visiting a spa in India, hiking in Scotland, and climbing Mount Fuji in Japan, all while denying to herself and not admitting to others that she was losing her eyesight. With humor, she describes her adventures in shopping, gardening, cooking and other activities while still in the denial stage.
She describes how she learned to use a cane and how much she hated it because it symbolized her blindness. She explains how she eventually realized that a cane equals independence despite having a visual impairment. She discusses how her motivational speaking career took off after she was asked to be the keynote speaker at a women’s retreat and how she joined a Lions Club after presenting at a benefit for the Leader Dog program.
Many of her anecdotes made me laugh, like the time she became entangled with a group of airmen on a military base while teaching there. I was frustrated with her when she described mishaps that could have been avoided, had she been using her cane. Of course I’ve dealt with low vision all my life, but when you’ve had sight and lose it, that’s a whole new ball game.
I can appreciate this book’s three powerful messages. Don’t be afraid to admit that you can’t see very well. Don’t be ashamed to use a white cane or other adaptive tool, and don’t hesitate to ask for help. If you’ve just lost your vision, this book will help you realize that it’s not the end of the world and that you’re not alone. If you don’t have a visual impairment, you’ll still appreciate the insight on vision loss. In fact, I highly recommend this book to non-disabled professionals working with people who have visual impairments.
My fondest childhood memories are of Dad and me listening to music together. Dad loved to play the old standards on those scratchy long-playing records by such artists as Fats Waller and Nat King Cole. These songs taught me lessons that I’m pretty sure Dad wanted me to learn.
If “The Joint is Jumpin,” you’re going to get in trouble. No man will like you if “Your Feet’s Too Big.” You’d better “Straighten Up and Fly Right.” I also learned to appreciate “Seafood, Mama” but not until I was an adult.
Dad also tried to teach me the value of money. He thought he’d succeeded until I sold my wheelchair accessible van last month because Bill was gone, and I no longer needed it. George, who responded to my ad, asked if I could take a thousand dollars off the asking price because the switch on the back of the vehicle that automatically opened the doors to the lift didn’t work, and the lift needed to be re-sized to fit his electric wheelchair. Because he appeared to be in desperate need of this vehicle, I agreed. Dad was livid. He claimed that it wouldn’t have cost a thousand dollars to fix these problems, but what he didn’t understand was a lesson I didn’t learn from him.
Although money is important, being helped and passing on that good deed to another is more valuable. Several years ago, Bill and I really wanted a van we could use to go places at night and on weekends when the local paratransit service wasn’t running. We were lucky to find someone willing to sell us such a vehicle at a price we could afford. When George came to my home in response to my ad, I could tell right away he was in the position we were in several years ago. I didn’t really need that extra thousand dollars, and he needed the van.
I leave you now with another lesson I did learn from Dad via Louis Armstrong. Despite the hateful things going on around us, we live in a “Wonderful World.” To my dad and others reading this, I hope you have a special Father’s Day.
One of my earliest childhood memories is of listening to Fats Waller with Dad. One of my favorite tunes by this artist was “Your Feet’s Too Big.” I wrote a poem about Dad and me listening to this song together, which I’ll include below the video. You can click beneath the poem to hear me read it. Tune in tomorrow for a post about lessons I learned from Dad through music.
As the piano’s base notes
imitate baby elephant patter,
I stomp my six-year-old feet in time,
while sitting on the couch across from Dad,
who is sprawled in his easy chair, his nose in a book.
He looks up, chuckles.
As Fats Waller sings no praises
to a woman’s over-sized feet,
I stand, stomp around the den.
Dad sings along–I giggle.
As the song crescendos
with blaring saxophone and trumpet,
I lift my feet,
bring them to the floor with purpose.
The record has other songs:
“The Joint is Jumpin’,” “Seafood, Mama,”
but my little feet always stomp in time
whenever I hear Fats say, “Your Feet’s Too Big.”
Here’s some history and a memoir about Flag Day. Enjoy!
Happy Flag Day, 2017!
by Alice Jane-Marie Massa
In the United States, Americans celebrated the first Flag Day on June 14, 1877–one hundred and forty years ago today. June 14 was designated as Flag Day because on this day in 1777, the Second Continental Congress passed a resolution for the design and colors of the first flag of the United States. In the late 19th century, teachers used Flag Day to teach their students more about history. Wisconsinite Bernard J. Cigrand, a teacher (later a dentist, writer, public speaker who delivered 2188 speeches about patriotism and the flag), went a step further: for approximately sixty years, he lobbied Congress to make Flag Day an official observance. The patriotic dream of Mr. Cigrand, who became known as the “Father of Flag Day,” did not materialize until 1916, when President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed that June 14 shall be National Flag Day. Finally…
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Thanks to StephJ for inspiring this. Since I love to read as much as I love to write, here are my answers to some questions about how I read.
Because of my visual impairment, I prefer listening to books, either in recorded or digital print formats. For this reason, I can read while eating, doing dishes, putting away laundry, etc. Most of the time, I prefer to read in the recliner that once belonged to my late husband Bill or in the back yard where he also enjoyed sitting. I like reading in these places because it makes me feel closer to him.
The devices I use are capable of keeping my place when I leave a book and return to it later. They have bookmark features, but I rarely use them.
I try to stop at the end of a chapter, but some authors end chapters with cliffhangers, so that can be more easily said than done. Also, some chapters are lengthy, and if I start nodding off, forget it.
Whether I’m reading or writing, I’m always drinking water. In mid-afternoon, I drink Dr. Pepper. Occasionally, I’ll listen to a book at the kitchen table while eating.
Since I listen to books instead of reading them, this can be tricky, so I usually don’t.
I read one book at a time. I finish it, or not, then move on.
With my portable devices, I can read anywhere, but I prefer to read at home.
Most of the time, books are read to me, either by a human voice on a recording or by my device’s text to speech engine. Sometimes though, especially when reading poetry, I read material aloud to myself with my device’s Braille display.
It depends on the book. With a novel, I don’t dare skip anything because I don’t want to miss an important plot twist. With a book of essays, short stories, or poems, I skip material that doesn’t appeal to me.
Most of the time, I’m not dealing with spines. Occasionally though, if I really want to read a book and can’t find it in an accessible digital format, I’ll buy a hard copy and scan it. When I do this, I try to keep the book intact.
Now it’s your turn. You can answer any or all the questions above, either in the comments field or on your own blog. If you do this on your blog, please put a link to your post in the comments field here. In any case, I look forward to reading about your reading life.
When I was eight years old, I got an eight-track player for Christmas, along with a few tapes of course. One of these was Simon and Garfunkel’s album Bridge Over Troubled Water which contains such memorable songs as “El Condor Pasa,” “The Boxer,” and “Sicilia.” Here’s the title track from that album. Have a great day.