In Sight

“No, she didn’t,” I replied, staring straight back at her. “She can’t see.”

My mom is blind. She lost her vision when she was a young child, and has not seen me or my siblings ever. Needless to say, she had not seen my fifth-grade science project.

People who know me will often ask what it’s like for me to live with a blind mother, and I’m often a little unsure what they want to hear. The answer, to me, is one word: Normal. I’ve never had a mother who could see, but what I do have is a mother who has brilliant hearing, a fantastic sense of smell, and a fierce confidence that when we have challenges, we can overcome them. Maybe she can’t see, but my mother has greater vision than most people I know.

The questions I get range from innocent to ridiculous. People will ask what I eat — umm, food? And how my mother drives — she doesn’t, and that’s hard. But harder than some of the challenges that living with a parent with a disability brings are the questions. I’ve definitely grown a thicker skin over time, and I also try and let people know before they meet my mother, so they don’t get confused when they hear me telling her to step up or down from a curb, or how to find the pepper which is right in front of her.