Sonrise Magazine

” Upset Lady” Photography by Donna Granados

I have written so much about blindness in this magazine that I thought it only fair that you should see a glimpse into my daily life as a blind person, especially this time noting the more humorous days that I laugh at even now.

” Upset Lady” Photography by Donna Granados

As a backdrop for this story, I was attending a church in Everett when I found out I was going blind. Because I had been there for so many years, the pastors went all out with attempts to help in any way they could. One of the things that would be done at my request was to make an announcement from the platform, that I could use some tangible assistance from those who had time to spare in their lives. It was then up to me to answer the phone and discover just how these wonderful servants were gifted and where to put them to work. My boys were teenagers, and I did not want any pressure put on them to manage the household.

One lady named Connie answered the call, and while talking with her, she seemed extremely intelligent. I really needed someone mature and responsible to help me manage my paperwork, and as I talked with her, I found out she was a nurse and had the passion and patience to follow through with this task. Keep in mind things were much different then. We were just starting to become familiar with personal computers, and smart phones did not exist. I say that because a lot of what I need to have done now, I can do with technical software, but not so back then. Anyway, since the nurse went to the same church, it was decided that she would occasionally come after work, read my mail, and get paperwork done, and then the boys and I would ride with her to church, saving us from taking the bus. It was a great system and she in the process became a very good friend and source of comfort.

It was one of these particular evenings that after my boys and I had completed our tasks at hand, we grabbed our coats and walked out the door. We hopped into the car and put on our seat belts, and while I was talking about something, I suddenly noticed my friend was struggling with turning on the engine. I stopped and asked her about possible mechanical failure, and she looked at me and said, “It’s the wrong car!” I probably gave the most astonished look I ever had, and asked, “What do you mean wrong car?” She then said with much conviction that this was not her car. (Mind you, this conversation took place much quicker than it took for me to type this years later.) After my boys witnessed my reaction, we pulled off our seat belts and ran out of the car as I asked the driver, “What are you trying to do, make me an accessory to grand auto theft?” It would be like saying to the police, “Sorry officer, I can’t see, and obviously, she can’t either!” My friend told me later, while we laughed about it, that it looked like her car, and the only thing that did not fit was the key. It took several attempts before she realized that things were a tad different. We continued the friendship for a long time after that incident and laughed about it for many years. As I look back on it now and tell the story, one would ask how we even got in the car.  Wasn’t it locked? Well, apparently not because we got in, and no alarm went off to startle us.  (I still wonder about this today.)

Another time, when my boys were grown and gone, and I had special transportation to get me to my medical appointments, as I always do, I scheduled the ride and waited for pickup. After knocking, the person standing outside my door announced she was there for me, so while she returned to her car, I grabbed my coat and headed down the stairs. It was very typical for me to ride in the back seat, so I went to the car I saw with my limited vision and jumped in.  Oh, my goodness, the woman in the front seat kept saying, “No ma’me,” and that’s all she was saying. My blindness kept me from knowing that she was my neighbor. Eventually, someone came, opened my door, informed me I was in the wrong car, and asked if I would please follow them. The driver took my arm, escorted me to the right car, and got me settled in while I was in a state of shock. The poor woman I had just left was hysterical, and I could not believe I had made such an error in judgment.To this day, when I hop in vehicles supposedly waiting for me, I now make a point of saying the driver’s name while I open the door.  Every now and then, I still get the wrong vehicle.

Even with all the training I have had as a blind person, mistakes still get made, and I have learned just like anyone else, to laugh at myself and with my friends and to move on. But in all seriousness, I would like to say a big thank you to all the people in my life, both past and present, who help me out in tangible ways. Even though it’s crazy sometimes, I still thank my God for every person that He brings into my life for whatever reason, and I always pray that as sisters and brothers in Christ, God will honor and bless the relationship and bless them for their giving hearts.

Jenny Andersons is a natural born Seattleite and has lived in Washington all her life.  She has faced many years of struggles including losing her sight to Stargardt Macular Degeneration.  Trusting in God is a daily priority.  Jenny has two grown boys, Daniel 43 and Robert 41, and a six-year-old granddaughter Noel.  Jenny is seeking her bachelor’s degree in Practical Theology from Seattle Bible College.  Jenny’s favorite hobbies are concerts, time with family and friends, boating, and traveling.