All Blind Children of Texas

As some of you may know, mom is president of a 501C3 nonprofit organization called All Blind Children of Texas (ABCTX).  Mom and Don were 2 of the organizers of this organization in 2004.  In the later years of Don’s life, this organization was Don’s passion and remains Mom’s passion today. 

Each year, Austin has a day of giving and ABCTX is included as one of the charities to support.  The day of giving starts at 6:00 p.m. on the 20^th of March and goes on until 6:00 p.m. on the 21^st of March.  You are invited to visit the www.abctx.org webpage to learn about the work this organization does.  There is a link on that page taking you to the Amplify Austin website where you will immediately be connected to the ABCTX donation opportunity. 

We hope you will visit the abctx.org website to learn about the exciting projects the organization supports.  All of the dollars you donate go directly to services for children with visual impairments across Texas.  ABCTX provides expanded core curriculum for blind children such as summer camps, creative writing programs, and the opportunity to compete in Sports Extravaganza which occurs each year in October in Dallas .  Many parents have never seen their children have the opportunity to actually compete with others.  This gives parents hope for their blind child.

When Don passed, he requested that contributions be sent to ABCTX in lieu of flowers.  With his passing Don made one more generous contribution to blindness. The contributions made were approximately $5,000.00 causing many wonderful opportunities for blind and low vision children to be realized.

We hope that you will find it in your heart to help ABCTX continue to grow. Thank you, Mary Sue and Cindy

Mom took over today...sigh.

I have been reviewing Cindy’s posts to her blog and I think she has done a masterful job of telling stories, from her point of view.  But, as I sit here in my tiny house in beautiful Pinehurst , Texas, I feel that I should give a bit of information concerning my side of the story.

It is definitely true that I had Cindy reading bills and other mail when she was very young.  What a wonderful teaching tool for her!  By the time she went through kindergarten twice, she was reading pretty well.  Yes, she did experience kindergarten twice and I have been very pleased that she hasn’t mentioned that fact yet.  

For years and years, she blamed me for having her go twice, but her teacher said that she wasn’t drawing her stick figures properly.  Her teacher stated that by the end of kindergarten, Cindy should be adding arms and legs to the body.  She simply wasn’t doing that.  But she could read and that is all thanks to me.  As a blind person, who would have thought those drawings were significant.

As my life has progressed, I have learned that if I don’t touch something to know that it is there, things are absolutely not in my world.  Since I had no real need for lights myself, you should not be surprised that lights were not very important to me.  Again, though it sounds a little strange to our sighted friends, Cindy has a skill that could only have come from her extremely thoughtful teacher!  That’s me, again.  

I could help all of you to gain some of my family’s without lights skills. Though, none of our acquaintances have indicated a need for training in the no lights adventure.  However, if any of our readers would like a seminar on no lights, I would be pleased to teach you.

Another area that Cindy has not totally covered is her feeding as a baby and a toddler. She has failed to mention that by the time she was 13 months old, I could hand her a jar of baby food and she could eat straight from the jar without making much of a mess.  I felt really good about her ability to eat like this.  It’s another of those situations of survival of the fittest.  She was tired of having to eat in the kitchen sink, so she learned to eat very well on her own.  Don’t you think that was a valuable lesson for her?  I mean, she learned that if you want something done right, do it yourself.  This teaching method gave her independence and she was able to attempt to teach her students how to do the same thing.  I don’t mean eating from the jar, but gaining independence every day.

Well, I hope that I have given you a bit of insight about what my child rearing reasoning has always been.  All kidding aside, I have been so lucky to have a daughter like Cindy.  For the most part, we have laughed our way through life. Don’t get me wrong!  We have disagreements but ultimately we respect one another.  I have enjoyed every aspect of her growth and I am very much enjoying watching my daughter being a mother.

Side note from Cindy: I'm taking back over tomorrow.  Mom gets too mushy. ;o)

          

All Tied Up

Since I took the weekend off from writing, I thought I would redeem myself today by sharing one of my favorite stories about my mom and her brother Walter Charles.  Please see the humor in this and don’t feel sorry for mom.  She has always laughed about this and so should you.  Then make sure your own children never do it to their friends or siblings.

There are many unique tales that involve these two, because my Uncle Walt was a very interesting character.  He was basically my family's version of Jessie James.  We think he had a good heart, but we weren't always sure. These two youngsters got in trouble frequently, on their own and together.

On this particular day, it was a bright, sunny Saturday morning and uncle Walt and Mom had done their chores.  Mom’s dad believed in Saturday morning chores and he gave both kids things to do.  Mom says that if it was nothing but moving gravel in the driveway from the bottom to the top, they had to do it.  On this particular Saturday, they had done just that, moved the gravel to the top of the driveway rather than leaving it at the bottom.  They also had to do some weeding in the pasture.  

They, finally, completed the chores and it was time to play. Mom had a board swing that was attached to a large tree and she loved to swing really high in it.  She was about nine-years-old when this happened.  Mom’s mother had to go to the grocery store and she decided to leave mom and Uncle Walt home alone.  Uncle Walt was old enough to stay with mom.  So, mom swung and while Walt watched cartoons.

After my grandmother had been gone for about an hour, one of Uncle Walt’s buddies came by to ask if he could go fishing.  Walt told him that he couldn’t go right then because he was staying with Mary Sue.  The boys then tried to think of a way to fish and keep mom safe.  Mom could hear the conversation and she was a bit worried about what they might do with her, as she should have been.

The idea finally came to the boys and they began to put it in motion.  Walt went to the barn and got some rope.  I'm betting you can see where this is going and it isn't good, for anyone involved. 

The boys told mom that they were going fishing but they wanted to keep her safe until their mom got home.  Uncle Walt and his friend then took cute little Mary Sue and tied her to the tree.  They didn’t tie her real tight, fortunately.  In fact, she could walk around a little bit. She could also sit down by the tree.  They obviously cared, but the fish were calling. 

Walt told Mary Sue to let their mother know that he had gone fishing with his buddy.  Mary Sue cheerfully said she would do just that and off the boys went to fish.  I don't think any of them had any idea how mad my grandmother could get, but when she came home to find her little 9 year old blind daughter tied to a tree, while her brother went fishing.....well, lets just say Walter Charles was in a heap of trouble.  Mom made out OK though. I think she even got some ice cream out of the whole ordeal.  

Cooking Part 2

Ahhh, more culinary tales. My favorite! Today, I thought I would share my mother's love of meatloaf.  Mom has been on an infinite search for the perfect meatloaf my entire life.  I have no idea why either.  I never really crave meatloaf or have thought to myself, "Gee, I wish mom would get in the kitchen and scrunch together some meat and eggs and spices with her hands and then bake it for me."  Nope, I have never ever never thought that.  But alas, moms will do as they please and mine is no different.

Mom has tried numerous recipes, some call for bread crumbs, some call for crackers, some say to use Italian seasoning, while others recommend Lipton soup mix.  She has tried them all.  The occasion that mom really out did herself was not long after we left ole BT.

We had been living in our new apartment for a few months and I had started school in Crowley ISD.  Things were going pretty well, for the most part.  On this particular day mom had stayed home from work.  I can't remember why but I do remember coming home from school and finding mom in the kitchen with a blender, a pound of ground beef, and a jar of spaghetti sauce.  To this day, mom will deny this ever happened, but I'm telling you, IT DID!!

Can you guess what she was planning to do with those three items?  If you guessed, throw them all in a blender, you would be right. I'm not sure if you have ever seen what happens to a blended tomato, but it doesn't stay red, it turns a sort of orange color.  Now, think of what an entire jar of spaghetti sauce would turn into with some pink meat....well, friends, it becomes a bright fluorescent orange color.  I swear it could have stopped a truck in the black of night.

As I'm watching mom create this blended spectacle of a dinner, I ask her "Mom, why are you doing that to the meat?" She replied, "I just thought this might work better than using my hands." Folks, if you ever get this response from someone, stop them from proceeding any further, and you begin to mash that meat up with your own hands. I beg you, do it yourself!!

Meatloaf should never be poured into a pan.  It was the most god awful looking creation I had ever seen.  I had to help mom empty this goo from the blender because she isn't the best at pouring things.  It splashed into the little loaf pan and I just couldn't imagine putting that orange mush into my mouth.  I told mom that I thought I was going to eat some cereal for dinner instead, and she said "That's fine, more for me!" Yep, mom, it's all you sweetie.

After, the "loaf" baked, you would have thought it would lose some of it's luminescent glow and maybe turn a little more golden, but alas it was still brighter than a Sunkist soda.  I kept to my word and didn't touch it and mom kept hers and enjoyed the "loaf". She said it tasted great, I somehow doubt that, but my mom would probably never let me know if it was terrible, just because she hates to be wrong.  Especially, when it is her own cooking.

Have a great Friday night friends! Please celebrate it without meat that you molded into a pan! ;o)

Burnt Toast

After we got everything running along pretty well, Mom decided to remarry.  I’m not going to spend a lot of time on this other than to say it was a terrible time in both our lives.  We thought it would last forever, but thankfully, it only lasted about 5 years. 

Burnt Toast came into our lives like a whirl wind.  This man was truly a silver tongued fox, especially, when it came to getting mom to go into his hair brained schemes.  He tried to convince her that the three of us could live in a 26 ft. travel trailer.  Fortunately, she did not go for that one. Then, he talked her into getting a HAM radio license.  Mom's call sign was N5JAQ, November 5 Juliet Alpha Quebec.  I remember this because every time she used the radio, it would interfere with my TV and scramble the reception.  I would hear her instead. He convinced her to move onto the same property with his ex-wife and their children.  I always felt horrible for her.  Can you imagine having to drive by your ex-husband and his new wife every single day? He really was a terrible person. 

He was so slick and sly in his methods.  Our move from Austin occured before we even knew what was happening. Each day mom would come home to find furniture missing.  One day it was the dining room furniture.  Another day, it was the couch.  Still another day all of the living room furniture was gone.  Eventually, we were eating on plastic Lean Cuisine plates at a card table with director chairs.  It was horrible. Mom was surprised by this, but it didn’t stop and she didn't know how to make it stop.

Eventually, we moved to Fort Worth, Everman to be specific, to live in a single wide manufactured home (that’s a trailer you know).  We lived there for about a year and then we moved out to a little town called Poolville.  Mom always told everyone that Poolville was not the end of the world but you sure could see the dropping off place from our back door.  I loved the school I went to and the friends I made.  I honestly, do not think I would have survived that terrible time if it weren't for my friends and their families.  I don't know if they ever really knew how bad my home life was but they allowed me to stay at their homes almost every weekend. 

Poolville was a very small school.  There were about 150 kids from kinder through 12th grade. It was a good school though, full of good people.  I was there from 3rd grade through 6th.  I was a very shy and insecure kid at that time. BT was the kind of man who believed children should be seen and not heard. This type of small setting was perfect for me and my state of mind at the time.  To think of leaving my small country school and going to a huge city school terrified me.  It was only a matter of time before we left and that was a good thing. Fortunately, mom allowed me to stay through 6th grade.  We had to that leave that world.  Neither of us could have emotionally survived if we had stayed much longer. I'm so fortunate that most of the friends I made during that time are still in my life, thanks to Facebook. (Hi Anna, Charlie, Misty and Cathy)

School let out May 27th and we moved into Ft. Worth on May 28th. Mom and BT found an apartment for us in southwest Ft. Worth, not far from Hulen Mall.  We needed a place where we could have easy access to public transportation or friends that could help us from time to time.  This fit all the needed criteria.  It was weird on moving day, because BT helped us move in, then left with his parents after all of our things were loaded into our new home.

On that first night, we ordered pizza, cuddled in mom's big bed and relished what was ahead.  Mom was in control again.  We were together.  We were happy, at last.  We were taking our lives back. 

The one good thing that BT gave us was his family. It still amazes me how such a horrible person could come from such great people and have such great children.  We are still blessed to have his daughter and her family still a large part of our lives.  For that, I'm truly grateful.

Many people used to ask if I'm bitter or angry about that time in our lives.  I can honestly say, no.  It made me who I am.  I am a better person because of him not despite him.  My mother and I have a bond even greater than we had before him, we needed each other and we still do. He didn't win.  We did.

Mail Call

Today, I wanted to touch on something many folks forget about, and that is mail.  People who are blind get bills, and letters, and junk mail just like everyone else.  Have you ever wondered how they pay their bills or read their mail?  That's what we are are going to discuss today. 

I'll first tell you how mom and I do it now.  It's much different than how we did it, waaaaaaaay back in the 70's and 80's and even the 90's.  As most of you know, mom lives in our garage that we had converted into an apartment.  I can help her go through mail much easier than when she had an apartment far away from me.  Going through mail is really a torturous thing for us.  Many of our arguments have occurred over the mail basket and bills.  I hate it.  With a passion.  Mom hates it just as much as me, probably because of me. 

The process goes like this: I open the bills and tell her what is owed to each creditor and then the ball is in mom's court.  Mom has a computer with a screen reading program on it, which allows her to navigate most places on the internet quite easily.  She can get into her bank account and pay any bills that we have set up in her online account.  

There are times when the computer, the site, the connection, or the whole damn set up is not working and we switch to plan B or plan C.  Plan B, is mom using her iphone and her banking app to pay her bills.  Plan C, is to call Cindy to have me log in to pay bills.  It just depends on how frustrated mom has gotten.  Plan C is almost always her last resort.  Just because she doesn't like to put me out, we honestly don't argue over bills nearly as much as we used to, but you just can't tell what the day will bring in regards to emotions with women.  Friends, it can get ugly. 

Let me go back now and tell you how it worked in the 70's.  We will then move up by decades as the technology has advanced.  

I actually learned to read by spelling out letters in the mail to mom.  It was an evening ritual.  I would open the envelopes. It was kinda fun back then.  I would then read aloud each letter one at a time to mom. It sounded something like this, "S o u t h w e s t e r n space b e l l."  Mom would figure out what I had spelled and then say the word to me so I would recognize it and possibly remember it.  You can imagine that this took a very long time.  She had the patience of Job.  I think she was thrilled beyond words when a sighted person would come to visit so she didn't have to spend an entire evening with me spelling each word aloud letter by letter.  The good news is that I got better with time.  

When writing checks, mom usually had a sighted person help her until I was old enough to write them for her.  Mom has always signed her name on her checks.  I told her that after Don died, she can not marry ever again because I am not teaching her how to sign another last name.  (I have taught her how to sign three last names, I have a right to be firm here.)

This was the process we followed until 1982.  During that time, mom married husband number 3.  I know, I know where was husband number 1, that's for another time.  We will just call this person Burned Toast, because that's kinda how I think of him.  Once ole BT came into our lives things changed and not necessarily for the better.  BT took over everything in our lives.  I can't tell you much of the saga of bill writing during that time, because I was not involved in it.

Let's skip forward to 1989, mom and I were on our own again and the process continued much like it was in the 70's.  Technology had come a long way but still not as advanced as we are now. PC's were just becoming affordable for home use, but they were not really blind person friendly yet. During this time, mom and I had many verbal encounters regarding mail.  I was teenager.  Could you expect anything less?  I'd rather watch 90210 or The Cosby show instead of sitting with mom and doing bills for what seemed like hours.  Looking back, I could have been nicer, but then where would I challenge mom?  She needed me to test her from time to time. ;o)

Once mom had married Don in 1994 things were really looking up in the technology world, but they still had a ways to go.  That year I went off to college, so mom and Don needed more help in this arena while I was away.  That's when you really learn how expensive it is to be disabled.  They had to pay someone that they trusted to help them do bills.  We were always lucky that, for the most part, there were good people there to help.  Sadly, not all individuals are very trustworthy when it comes to checkbooks that don't belong to them.  Some folks don't really have a problem stealing from people who are disabled.  Sad but true.

Once, the 2000's hit, scanners became an affordable and an amazing piece of independence for mom.  She was finally able to read her mail by scanning it into her computer.  She still needed someone to help with check writing but at least she gained some control over her own finances that way.  Think about it, do you really want people knowing what you owe, what you have in your checking account and the amount of money you make?  Some things should be private and personal.  

Hope you can now take a moment and be thankful for the small things in your world that belong to only you and your family.  Because it is precious and empowering to have privacy and control over your own finances. 

Until tomorrow. ;o)

Cooking part 1

Cooking is probably one of my favorite things to do.  I have always been around people who loved to cook and were good at it.  My mom being at the top of the list.  Yes, mom loves to cook and is actually a very good cook.  She loves looking up recipes in her favorite cookbook called, Cooking Without Looking, and on the Internet.

Her kitchen is really no different than yours.  No special appliances, really.  We have marked the stove and microwave so that she knows where each setting is located.  We have also labeled her spices and canned foods with braille or a small dot that is used with a special pen that can record what the item is, and then tell her so that we don't end up with cinnamon in our tacos instead of cumin.  But really, with most spices, she knows what it is either by the smell or the shape of the jar.  Also, the weight of the spices vary. For instance, pepper is always lighter than salt. 

The one item that can be a little scary with mom is a knife.  She has cut herself numerous times.  I'm pretty sure that there have been several meals that I've unknowingly eaten mom's blood.  I know that is gross, but most likely true.  Fortunately, it hasn't killed any of us yet.  You learn to laugh, get a band aid and move on. 

Of course, there have been some very unique meals.  Let's revisit some of those special dishes, shall we? Back when mom and dad were still early in their marriage they had been on a road trip and stopped at Stuckey's.  While there, mom bought a shake mix.  Basically, you put the powder into a blender with milk and ice. Walla!  You have a shake.  

When they returned home, mom wanted to try out her new mix. She pulled out the blender and put in all the ingredients and began to blend.  Mom then poured it into a glass and took the now liquefied, powdered, masterpiece to dad.  He immediately took a drink and was impressed with mom's blending skills.  She then left him to enjoy the sumptuous drink, while she cleaned up the kitchen.  

During that time, she heard dad making these spitting sounds.  You know how people do when they are spitting out sunflower seeds?  She couldn't help but wonder what dad was spitting out from her delectable shake, so she said, "Ray, what are you doing?"  And dad retorted, "I'm spitting out this paper." "What paper? I didn't put paper in the shake," said mom.  Dad then replied, "Well, if it's red, white and blue and has writing on it, it's paper." Turns out, there were recipes in the top of the jar that mom didn't notice and they unknowingly became part of a recipe themselves.  It didn't stop dad from enjoying the shake. It just took a little longer to swallow.

Another, of my favorite stories is when mom decided to fry up some okra one evening for dinner.  Mom had a small little fryer, so she just had to empty the bag okra in the basket and then drop the basket in the oil.  Mom, got busy preparing the other items for the meal, so she asked dad to come and check the okra for her.  He pulled up the basket and looked intently into the fine, fried veggies and couldn't help but think that something was very wrong.  "Mary Sue, are you sure this is okra?" he asked with true confusion. "Yes, why?" said mom, getting a little defensive.  (She gets kinda defensive about her vittles sometimes.) "Well, it looks like you're frying pecans," dad said.  Sure enough, mom had fried up about a dozen pecans.  They ended up snacking on a couple then put them back in the freezer after having a good laugh.  

There are many more culinary delights that will be coming in later posts.  These are not the only cooking tales I have in my arsenal, there are many, many more to come. ;o)

Turn out the lights, the party's over.

Our house in Austin, was a small 3 bedroom, 2 bath home with a garage that had been converted into a play room.  It was the perfect home for mom and me.  We loved our little house.  It was a beautiful avocado green and so were all of our appliances.  The 70's were truly a special time for vegetable colors.  Our home had all we needed; a fireplace, a nice kitchen, and a big backyard.  The only thing your house had that ours probably didn't have were functioning lights.

We did everything in the dark. We ate in the dark, took baths in the dark, cooked in the dark, went to the bathroom in the dark, played in the dark, etc.  We were fine, until our friends and neighbors came over and discovered that we had no functioning lights.  For some strange reason, they didn't think I should do as much in the dark as I did.

Even the people at my daycare had a problem with it, because every time I went to the bathroom, I actually made an effort to turn off lights, rather than turn them on.  I even tried turning off our classroom lights each day I went into class.  My teachers at school decided to implement a plan to reward me each time I went to the bathroom with the lights on.  OK, I might be a little "special" too.

It seemed, that one weekend one of our friends got tired of not being to see and made an effort to go buy lights and put them in every spot that needed one.  It was such a sweet gesture.  We then had kitchen lights.  Our bathrooms glowed with illumination.  Our bedrooms sparkled under the 60 watt luminescence.  It really was pretty.  Little did they know that the lights were still only ever used if they were there. At least, they felt better about us and that's all that seemed to matter.  

One thing that really was hard for me to understand, as a child, was that I couldn't do many things with my mom that other kids could do with their parents.  For instance, I couldn't color with her or play most board games.  Fortunately, the card game Uno came out about that time.  I still remembering us sitting at the dinner table with mom's braille writer. I read her every color and number on each card and she labeled them so we could play together.  Do you know how large an Uno deck is?  It took us a few days, but we did it! Mom even taught me how to play Spades and Hearts.  But no Candy Land or Operation or Checkers or Battle Ship, the awesome games of my childhood that I wanted to play so badly.  That was sad for me and since I had no siblings it did get kind of lonely and boring.

That is probably why I became as big of a TV guru as I did as kid.  It was was one of the few things we could do together.  Next, you're probably going to say that mom couldn't watch TV.  WRONG!  I hate it when people say that, yes she does!  Every day, in fact.  She loves QVC and Court TV and mystery shows.  Mom watches just like us, except she doesn't see the faces and pictures but she can understand the storyline.  Shows that have lots of conversation versus action are her favorites.  We would sit on the couch and watch Magnum PI, Bonanza, Dukes of Hazard, and many other oldies but goodies together.  I would describe them and mom would explain parts that didn't make much sense to me.  It was a joint effort.

We were also blessed that my grandmother was able to pick up in places where mom couldn't.  She would put my hair in pony tails and color with me.  She loved to sit and do puzzles. We could sit in silence for hours doing puzzles, one after the other.  Grandma taught me some basics in sewing, and cooking, decorating, and cleaning.  She was truly a kind and unselfish soul. Being with her helped fill in the gaps that mom couldn't provide without making my mom feel guilty or me feel deprived.

Sometimes, I would color pictures at grandma's house and then take them home for mom to see.  She would feel them ask me what colors I used and what I drew.  This was how I believed everyone looked at art.  It was a hard lesson when I learned I was wrong. When I would draw pictures at school and show them to my teachers for their approval, they would just glance and then say how nice my drawing was, this was a total let down.  One day, I had to break the news to mom that my teachers were not looking at my art right.  She then had to explain to me that not everyone could see the way she does.  I guess it really didn't dawn on me how different my mom was until then.  I had just accepted our world as normal, little did I know how truly unique we were.

How did she do it?

After becoming a parent myself, I really have no idea how mom kept up with me.  My minion is into everything and can destroy small villages if given the opportunity.  So, to think of my little ole blind momma dealing with a crawler, then a toddler and a crazy, run for their life walker, I was in awe. How did she do it?

Some of you might be wondering where was my dad in all of this?  And that is a good question.  To be truthfully honest, dad was probably laying on the bed watching TV or reading a Guns and Ammo magazine. When you envision a couch potato, my dad could be the poster child.  Please, don't misunderstand me, my dad is a good man, but just not very present in much of my life or his own for that matter. Much of whatever was done with me or to me was accomplished through the efforts of mom.

Back then, mom had amazing hearing and sometimes I swore she had eyes in the back of her head, because she always knew what I was doing, dammit! But probably the reason she knew is because she put bells on my shoes.  That's how she always found me when I started crawling and much to her dismay, I began walking at 10 months old.  Poor woman!  Though, the bells were not fool proof and at times I was stealthy.

One day, mom was sitting on the floor talking on the phone, which my mother still does almost constantly to this day.  I was sitting beside her, being an angel, as always.  At some point, things got very quite and she reached over to see if I was still there, but I had disappeared.  Mom started crawling on the floor reaching out for me and calling my name, but I never answered.  She then crawled into the kitchen searching and my bedroom, but still no Cindy.  In the midst of the search, mom had to go to the bathroom.  When she sat down on the toilet, she heard a little giggle and there she found me behind the bathroom door.  You will learn in later stories how valuable doors are to our little family.  I continue to have fun with them and her to this day.

Another of the extraordinarily precious things I learned to do was to shred my diaper.  The first incident happened when I was about 7 months old.  One Sunday morning, I seemed to be sleeping a bit later than usual.  Mom came in to check on me and found that I had pooped and didn't want that filth on me anymore.  So, I took off the diaper and decided to paint a beautiful mosaic on my bedroom wall and my crib. Of course, when mom found this she vomited in the crib and all the way to the bathroom. Mom was able to pull herself together enough to clean me up. And thankfully, dad pulled himself off the bed long enough to clean the crib and my mosaic.  I think they really bonded that day, all over my my poop.  Good times, good times.