There Are None So Blind...

Los Angeles, California

My mom's retina continued to fray after the surgery. There had simply been too much damage done by the shingles virus which had run rampant in her eye for six weeks before she started treatment for it. The rehab facility had never diagnosed it. They were too busy bringing in all kinds of specialists who could get a slice of her Medicare pie. You learn a lot through a process like this, including cynicism about it…

Ultimately, we opted not to put her through another surgery. It would only improve her vision from being able to see a hand waving in front of her face to being able to count fingers in front of her face. She would not be able to read. The two facilitators at the board and care, whom I trusted a lot, and the doctor supported this decision, as did Billy. My sister was not consulted, as she has not been in the loop on Mom's medical care since she opted out in 2009.

Along with the change in my mom's condition, upheaval is afoot all around me. Autumn is now here, and I am predictably mourning the loss of summer. This is something I always do, but even more so now that I don't really look forward to the holidays, and especially this year with Todd and Christopher taking a South American cruise instead of renting the house in Carmel as they have done for the past two years. Still, we will return to Carmel just before Christmas for our last stay at Casita de la Mar. Another chapter closing...

There have been so many closings and endings of late, or at the very least, upheavals: the demise of my family; Sandra's illness; the disappearance of my sister at a time when her support was needed in the care of my mom; the destruction of the Kona Village Resort, and the soon-to-be loss of our rental in Carmel. In so many ways I feel adrift, looking about for anything to hold onto, to keep me afloat, while I scan the horizon for land. And maybe that's a way-too-cheesy metaphor, but still, it feels that way to me.

Perhaps what is hopeful is my ability to scan the horizon. I am fortunate that I have sight, and even, on the odd occasion, insight. So while I have seen much of what sustained me in my life sink to the sandy bottom, I am still looking for what can buoy me up in my future. I have always been someone who held fast to traditions, but as those traditions have evanesced, and in some cases, disapparated, what will replace them? I know I am fortunate. I have Billy. I have  LOL, and other friends, I have salsa dance, and the circle I know within the salsa community. And finding salsa was truly finding my bliss. Still, these days, as I look about for meaning in my life, I admit that sometimes my eyes fail me. That is when I remind myself of that old adage that there are none so blind as those who will not see. It's just that when you are trying to see from under water, everything can look a bit, well, blurry. Still, I know that my sight will adjust. Alas, my mom is not so lucky. . .Thank you for reading my blog while I am treading water.