I first met her when I was fifteen and we were both regulars at the Jesus Peoples' coffee house. I had never met a blind person before and I have to say that she intrigued me. She wore sunglasses all the time which enhanced her mystique. I wanted to see and to know the person behind the shades. She was nice to talk to, a bit timid and hesitant and after a few months we disappeared from each other's lives...till she resurfaced about six years later.
She became a feature visitor at the house I shared with the Bucolic One and Taxi Driver. We all convened together at the same coffee house, a different one, run by a Baptist church downtown. We were trying to pray for a restoration of her sight, and for a while it almost seemed to be happening. She feared that her lack of faith would be an obstacle as well as the judgmental comments from the various Pentecostals and charismatics who simply couldn't accept that God is still a loving God even though he lets bad things happen. She had also participated in some of the Cursillo-style retreats and became part of the adhoc Christian community that had formed around them.
The Blind Girl resurfaced yet again, when I was twenty-seven and she would have been in her early thirties. She somehow obtained my phone number and called me. We hadn't seen each other in perhaps six years (is there a pattern here?). While I felt a bit nervous about feeling responsible for a friend with a disability it seemed like a good idea that we be in contact with each other.
We became a regular feature in each other's lives. The Blind Girl was interested in the ministry work I was doing downtown and frequently accompanied me for café visits in the West End. We also took walks together in the neighbourhood and on the seawall. She appeared to have a remarkable gift of discernment. We would walk by certain areas that appeared to be troubled and she would each time give me a remarkably accurate report of what was going on.
She was very independent though she still had a tendency to cling to people, likely a result of having been very dependent on the care of others in an era when very little was expected of blind people. She navigated the bus system independently, using her cane as a guide. Unfortunately older people (we were still in the early 'eighties) didn't appear to see things that way.
On one occasion as I was seeing the Blind Girl to a bus stop following church, an old Italian man tried to physically attack me when I let her get on the bus on her own without accompanying her. He didn't have a clue that being blind for her was not an obstacle and that I was not some cruel douchebag who was abandoning her to a nasty outcome. I suppose it was good of him to want to stick up for the disabled, but still, what an absolute idiot!
Another time when we were on the bus together a sweet dear little old lady who likely has now been dead for years, asked me in a dear twee little voice, "Is she BLIND?" The old dear, having likely been born at the turn of the century, simply didn't have a clue, it would have been impossible to explain to her, and when I said that she shouldn't be asking me but my blind friend she seemed completely confused and befuddled. And when the Blind Girl did reply "Yeah, but I'm not deaf" the old dear looked even more pathetic.
I introduced the Blind Girl to the Snooty Church and she felt very at home there. She also loved the music, being herself a classically trained and gifted musician. I attended one of her recitals (piano) and was simply blown away. We didn't always sit together but I always helped her to the altar rail for communion. One Sunday as we were standing for prayer I noticed her seated a couple of rows in front of me. At that time I often had a sense of two angels accompanying me in the form of beautiful bronze coloured panthers. I beseeched one of my panther angels to go over and comfort her and I looked and saw in the spirit as my guardian went over to her and put his forepaws up on her shoulders from behind. After the mass the Blind Girl confided to me that she had been going through a dreadful funk and then suddenly, during the prayers she felt something very warm and comforting cover her and she had been feeling much better ever since. I told her about the panther angel, since it was just at that time that I had sent him over to her. We were both of course amazed.
She was very social and gregarious and had a lot of friends, having herself a gift for friendship. There was of course always getting past the stigma of having a disability. Even my mother who visited for coffee one day when the Blind Girl and a sighted friend of hers were over afterward asked me if the sighted woman was her paid companion.
We eventually had a falling out. I was frankly exhausted from listening to her stream of consciousness whining and complaining and when I refused to put up with it she hung up on me. Our lives took decidedly different directions. The last time I saw her she was already getting quite grey. She confided to me that a mutual friend, a man recently widowed tried to rape her and she was of course completely traumatized. This was different from our friend's version who suggested that she was reluctant but ultimately willing. I never had the opportunity to tell him afterward, "Dude, you raped her, you should be prosecuted and you owe her restitution. And our friendship is now over." How easily we disappear out of each other's lives.
No comments:
Post a Comment