Thursday afternoon, I walked into the gameroom to talk to my mom for a second. While I was standing there, news of Michael Jackson being rushed to the hospital by ambulance broke. I immediately sat down to learn more about what was going on with my favorite childhood superstar. Three hours later, we found out that Michael Jackson was dead. My heart sank.
No, I didn't personally know Michael Jackson. But his music, his ability to capture the world's attention, and his commitment to artistic excellence struck me and had indelible impact on how I saw myself and the world we live in.
Michael was not just a celebrity, he was a legend. He was not just a dancer, he was revolutionary. Michael was not just a singer, he was a phenomena.
And I’m so glad that I got a chance to SEE him myself. I don’t think that anyone could have effectively described how Michael moved when he danced, how amazing the music videos were, and how people all over the world reacted when they witnessed his musical charisma.
I remember the album covers of Off the Wall and Thriller so vividly. It’s almost like I can still see them now. Michael was absolutely gorgeous to me!!! Beautiful skin, hair, eyes, and smile...
As incredible as it may sound, I also truly remember the many dance moves that Michael did in the Thriller, Beat It, and Billie Jean videos. That’s how captivated I was with him and his ability to express himself artistically.
And even though I got a chance to see Michael live in concert at the Astrodome when he did the Victory Tour, the performance I will never-ever forget was the Motown 25 television special. When I saw Michael, I was in a trance. He was so beautiful! And when he started moving… Oh my goodness!!! There are no words to describe how time froze for those few minutes. I’ll never forget! The glove… The hat… And that dance move that blew the world away!
Honestly, I don’t feel sad for Michael. His life was full of glorious opportunities that he was able to take full advantage of. In addition, Michael selfishly shared his gift with all of us. He absolutely made the best of the 50 years that were granted to him.
My friend, Randy, wrote a song about how there are so many treasures that are buried in the graveyard, simply because people were too afraid, too faithless, too selfish to transform their dreams to reality when they were alive. I beg you to not let that be you. Don’t let them bury your gifts and talents in the casket with your lifeless body. Give life to the gifts that God has stored in you from birth!
Yes, we die. But our gifts to the world can live forever. Michael is dead. But his gift to the world will live for decades, and perhaps centuries.
May Michael Joseph Jackson rest in sweet peace; and may his gift to the world live forever.
Angela Braden
Lifetime Fan
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Waiting in the Dark
A couple days ago, one of my best friends told me that her boyfriend always reminds her to call me back. She said that he doesn't like the idea that I'm sitting around in the dark, waiting for her to call. So, he often pushes her to call me, the blind friend, back.
Um, really?
Is that the only reason why "my friend" would need to call me back? To save me from a life of dark bordem? To save me from being lonely and blind? To save me from myself?
I guess calling me back because I'm a friend is not a good enough reason in his mind.
I know that when my friend reads this, she will likely be disappointed that I wrote about it. But I'm not writing about it to express anger in her man. I'm not even writing about it to put the brotha on blast. **So, don't take offense to this.**
The reason why I'm taking time to write about it is to point out how many people perceive me. Most of the people that I've come in contact with see me as a lonely, blind chick that lives in the dark, with no friends, and charitable family to care for me.
I hate that people see me as the "blind friend". I don't want to be the "blind church member". I don't want to be Frances, Paula, and Kim's "blind sister". And I'm shonuff sick of being Mama and Daddy's "blind daughter".
Because when people start seeing you as the "blind one", then they place different expectations and demands on the relationship. And many of those expectations and demands are unfounded and basically ridiculous.
Yes, I need a sighted guide to get around. Yes, I may need some assistance knowing what color some clothing items are. Yes, I need people to read to me from time to time.
But I don't need a special provisional friendship. I just need my friends to be a friend. Not a friend to the blind... But a friend to a friend...
But I might as well give up on that wish. I am the "blind lady" in all of my circles. It is what it is.
However I refuse to play the role that people are trying to assign to me. I will just be me. And from what I gather, to my real friends, the people that "know" me, being me is good enough.
**To my friend: Please, please don't be offended because I wrote about this. I'm not trying to slander your man. I'm just thinking out loud. And when I do think out loud about blindness related issues, it get's splattered on my blog, NuVision.
Love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Angie**
Um, really?
Is that the only reason why "my friend" would need to call me back? To save me from a life of dark bordem? To save me from being lonely and blind? To save me from myself?
I guess calling me back because I'm a friend is not a good enough reason in his mind.
I know that when my friend reads this, she will likely be disappointed that I wrote about it. But I'm not writing about it to express anger in her man. I'm not even writing about it to put the brotha on blast. **So, don't take offense to this.**
The reason why I'm taking time to write about it is to point out how many people perceive me. Most of the people that I've come in contact with see me as a lonely, blind chick that lives in the dark, with no friends, and charitable family to care for me.
I hate that people see me as the "blind friend". I don't want to be the "blind church member". I don't want to be Frances, Paula, and Kim's "blind sister". And I'm shonuff sick of being Mama and Daddy's "blind daughter".
Because when people start seeing you as the "blind one", then they place different expectations and demands on the relationship. And many of those expectations and demands are unfounded and basically ridiculous.
Yes, I need a sighted guide to get around. Yes, I may need some assistance knowing what color some clothing items are. Yes, I need people to read to me from time to time.
But I don't need a special provisional friendship. I just need my friends to be a friend. Not a friend to the blind... But a friend to a friend...
But I might as well give up on that wish. I am the "blind lady" in all of my circles. It is what it is.
However I refuse to play the role that people are trying to assign to me. I will just be me. And from what I gather, to my real friends, the people that "know" me, being me is good enough.
**To my friend: Please, please don't be offended because I wrote about this. I'm not trying to slander your man. I'm just thinking out loud. And when I do think out loud about blindness related issues, it get's splattered on my blog, NuVision.
Love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Angie**
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Finally!
After years and years of having a cell phone, I finally can do more than just talk on my phone. Thanks to advancements in assistive technology for cellular phones, I can now text message, browse the internet, listen to music, send and receive e-mails, manage the phonebook, and change my ring-tones, all independently.
Of course, being able to send a text message is not an essential part of my life. But for many years I was blocked out of being able make the most of my phone, simply because accessibility was not an option for so many cell phone manufacturers.
And because barriers absolutely bother me, I was always annoyed that I couldn't do a simple task like enter a name in the phonebook of my cell phone. So, for the last 15 years, I've hoped that technology would be created to knock those barriers down. And finally, there are companies that are dedicated to creating a product that is accessible for blind cell phone consumers. Yipee!!!
The program I use is Mobile Speak for Windows. This program was created by Code Factory. And it works marvelously on my Palm Treo.
I'm able to do almost anything on my phone, like a sighted person would. Of course, I'm having to not only learn how to use the Treo; I'm having to learn how to use the Mobile Speak as well. That's a little challenging. But the rewards far outweigh the time and energy I'm having to use to learn the phone.
The greatest benefit of having speech on my phone is the feature that allows me to enter information into my phonebook. For so many years, I was not able to save phone numbers. That was fine when my memory was in tip top condition. But now that I'm getting a little older, being able to have a telephone number in an easily accessible format is incredibly important. Already, after only having my phone for a couple months, I have 150 contacts saved in my phone. I suspect that number will increase over time.
Another aspect of my phone I enjoy is the possibility of sending someone a quick text message. So many times, I need to say something to someone, but do not want to actually call them. Texting truly works in those situations.
If you want to learn more about Mobile Speak, visit the manufacturer's website.
http://www.codefactory.com
Blessings!
Angie
Of course, being able to send a text message is not an essential part of my life. But for many years I was blocked out of being able make the most of my phone, simply because accessibility was not an option for so many cell phone manufacturers.
And because barriers absolutely bother me, I was always annoyed that I couldn't do a simple task like enter a name in the phonebook of my cell phone. So, for the last 15 years, I've hoped that technology would be created to knock those barriers down. And finally, there are companies that are dedicated to creating a product that is accessible for blind cell phone consumers. Yipee!!!
The program I use is Mobile Speak for Windows. This program was created by Code Factory. And it works marvelously on my Palm Treo.
I'm able to do almost anything on my phone, like a sighted person would. Of course, I'm having to not only learn how to use the Treo; I'm having to learn how to use the Mobile Speak as well. That's a little challenging. But the rewards far outweigh the time and energy I'm having to use to learn the phone.
The greatest benefit of having speech on my phone is the feature that allows me to enter information into my phonebook. For so many years, I was not able to save phone numbers. That was fine when my memory was in tip top condition. But now that I'm getting a little older, being able to have a telephone number in an easily accessible format is incredibly important. Already, after only having my phone for a couple months, I have 150 contacts saved in my phone. I suspect that number will increase over time.
Another aspect of my phone I enjoy is the possibility of sending someone a quick text message. So many times, I need to say something to someone, but do not want to actually call them. Texting truly works in those situations.
If you want to learn more about Mobile Speak, visit the manufacturer's website.
http://www.codefactory.com
Blessings!
Angie
Monday, June 01, 2009
The Prayers of a Blind Aunt
Last night, my sister informed me that my youngest niece's eye is swollen and it has mucus leaking from it. She said the doctors wanted to know more about my eye condition.
My heart shook at the very notion that the baby could possibly have an eye condition that could impact her sight. And it even more shook me up that her undiagnosed eye problem somehow drew a line back to me, her blind aunt.
The doctors want to know more about me and the dreadful disease that brutally stole my sight, and later my left eye. I guess they are trying to make sure that this baby doesn't become a victim of what overtook me in my younger years.
I always dream about what I would like to give my nieces and nephew as they grow older. But I am sickened at the idea that any child that is connected to me may get what I got. I somehow would feel responsible, like I gave it to them. And I'm not sure how I could live with doctors always pointing their fingers at me, as if my blindness dripped from me to one of the kids.
Yeah, I know... This makes no sense. I'm not the parent. I'm the aunt! But in a strange, ridiculous way, I would feel responsible. I would feel like I gave the kids that problem.
I'm praying for my 2.7 pound niece to continue on the track of growth and healing. But in the last few hours, I've specifically prayed for her eyes to heal and return to God's original design. And I must admit that my prayer for her eyes to get better is partially for selfish reasons. I want her to get better for herself, and so that I won't have to deal with all the emotions that will come if she does indeed have the eye disease that has taken up residence in my brown eyes.
**God bless Elyssa Adriana Perez. May God's healing power flow into her tiny body. May she continue to develop into the healthy, loving baby we all hope she will be. God, touch her lungs, eyes, and heart. You know the problem and the solution. She's in Your capable and loving hands. Amen.**
My heart shook at the very notion that the baby could possibly have an eye condition that could impact her sight. And it even more shook me up that her undiagnosed eye problem somehow drew a line back to me, her blind aunt.
The doctors want to know more about me and the dreadful disease that brutally stole my sight, and later my left eye. I guess they are trying to make sure that this baby doesn't become a victim of what overtook me in my younger years.
I always dream about what I would like to give my nieces and nephew as they grow older. But I am sickened at the idea that any child that is connected to me may get what I got. I somehow would feel responsible, like I gave it to them. And I'm not sure how I could live with doctors always pointing their fingers at me, as if my blindness dripped from me to one of the kids.
Yeah, I know... This makes no sense. I'm not the parent. I'm the aunt! But in a strange, ridiculous way, I would feel responsible. I would feel like I gave the kids that problem.
I'm praying for my 2.7 pound niece to continue on the track of growth and healing. But in the last few hours, I've specifically prayed for her eyes to heal and return to God's original design. And I must admit that my prayer for her eyes to get better is partially for selfish reasons. I want her to get better for herself, and so that I won't have to deal with all the emotions that will come if she does indeed have the eye disease that has taken up residence in my brown eyes.
**God bless Elyssa Adriana Perez. May God's healing power flow into her tiny body. May she continue to develop into the healthy, loving baby we all hope she will be. God, touch her lungs, eyes, and heart. You know the problem and the solution. She's in Your capable and loving hands. Amen.**
Thursday, May 21, 2009
"Beautiful Blind Women"
Every week, I check the stats on my blog. I'm always amazed with what queries lead people to my very unique blog. Here's what comes up the most.
"What is it like to be blind?"
"To be blind"
"I hate being blind."
But the one that always catches my attention is this... "beautiful blind woman"
And that query is entered pretty often. Folks from all over the world are using that phrase to search on Google and Yahoo. And most of the time, Google and Yahoo lead those people straight to my blog.
I know why Google and Yahoo grab my blog to appear in the search string. In the description of my blog, I mention blind and beautiful in the same sentence. Yes, I think I'm beautiful! **healthy self esteem**
But here's what I wonder... Who's looking for beautiful, blind women? And why are they looking for them? And the better question is... When they find my blog, do they think they have found a beautiful blind woman? LOL
Just wonddering out loud on my blog... I need to go to bed! It's 4:20 AM.
"What is it like to be blind?"
"To be blind"
"I hate being blind."
But the one that always catches my attention is this... "beautiful blind woman"
And that query is entered pretty often. Folks from all over the world are using that phrase to search on Google and Yahoo. And most of the time, Google and Yahoo lead those people straight to my blog.
I know why Google and Yahoo grab my blog to appear in the search string. In the description of my blog, I mention blind and beautiful in the same sentence. Yes, I think I'm beautiful! **healthy self esteem**
But here's what I wonder... Who's looking for beautiful, blind women? And why are they looking for them? And the better question is... When they find my blog, do they think they have found a beautiful blind woman? LOL
Just wonddering out loud on my blog... I need to go to bed! It's 4:20 AM.
Please Introduce Yourself
I've noticed that traffic has slowed down here on my blog. It is quite likely that my readers have stopped coming here because I've been so slow to post. I'm sorry about that!!!
I have so much I need to say. So much I want to say... And interestingly enough, most of what I need and want to say, I don't feel I should say it here. That's why the posts have slowed down.
Also, I would like to hear from you more! I hoped that NuVision would be a platform for discussion. But my voice is usually the only one that's heard here.
Of course, I have my regulars that stop in from time to time. Ensayn, Sacredly Breathing, Chi-Chi, Lovebabz, MackDiva, and a few others. I even have a new visitor, who has been so kind to my blog. Thanks Becky!!!
And then there are those that cruise through my spot, but never leave a comment. Please tell me who you are!!! I would love to know what do you think of the blog. Heck, what do you think of me?
So, Montgomery, Vegas, Chicago... Let me hear from you. Introduce yourself!!!
I don't bite. Well, not unless you're a piece of bread or a fine man. LOLOL Carbs and fine men just have that affect on me!
I have so much I need to say. So much I want to say... And interestingly enough, most of what I need and want to say, I don't feel I should say it here. That's why the posts have slowed down.
Also, I would like to hear from you more! I hoped that NuVision would be a platform for discussion. But my voice is usually the only one that's heard here.
Of course, I have my regulars that stop in from time to time. Ensayn, Sacredly Breathing, Chi-Chi, Lovebabz, MackDiva, and a few others. I even have a new visitor, who has been so kind to my blog. Thanks Becky!!!
And then there are those that cruise through my spot, but never leave a comment. Please tell me who you are!!! I would love to know what do you think of the blog. Heck, what do you think of me?
So, Montgomery, Vegas, Chicago... Let me hear from you. Introduce yourself!!!
I don't bite. Well, not unless you're a piece of bread or a fine man. LOLOL Carbs and fine men just have that affect on me!
Monday, May 18, 2009
"You can see shapes and colors, right?"
People are often shocked that I cannot see anything at all. Even after I confess to being completely blind, there are some that still cannot wrap their minds around the fact that means I can't see anything.
They ask me:
"You can't see shadows?"
"Can you see colors?"
"You can see a little bit, huh?"
"You're TOTOALLY blind?"
"You can't see anything?!"
Even though I know I will have to continue to answer those questions, sometimes multiple times to the same person, allow me to provide some clarity to anyone that stumbles upon my blog.
I can't see colors, shapes, shadows, figures, artificial light, or sunlight.
I'm as blind as they come!
I guess it's just hard for some people to imagine "seeing nothing". Shucks, it's hard for me to imagine it too.
But it's no imaginary moment for me. This darkness that I've been sentenced to is real, inescapable, and constant. No matter how hard I concentrate, I don't see any flashes of color. No matter how close I hold a flashlight in front of my eye, I only feel the heat. I see nothing. No matter how tight I grip my eyes shut, and then open them again, the scenery doesn't change.
I cannot see. And for me, that means I cannot see anything. I wish I could see something...anything... But so far, wishing hasn't changed what I can see.
So, I don't focus on the darkness that extends from my sick eyes. I focus on the light that is within. And because of that light, I can see something! I see more than the eyes can handle. I see what perfectly functioning eyes cannot see.
I see God!
Angela Braden
They ask me:
"You can't see shadows?"
"Can you see colors?"
"You can see a little bit, huh?"
"You're TOTOALLY blind?"
"You can't see anything?!"
Even though I know I will have to continue to answer those questions, sometimes multiple times to the same person, allow me to provide some clarity to anyone that stumbles upon my blog.
I can't see colors, shapes, shadows, figures, artificial light, or sunlight.
I'm as blind as they come!
I guess it's just hard for some people to imagine "seeing nothing". Shucks, it's hard for me to imagine it too.
But it's no imaginary moment for me. This darkness that I've been sentenced to is real, inescapable, and constant. No matter how hard I concentrate, I don't see any flashes of color. No matter how close I hold a flashlight in front of my eye, I only feel the heat. I see nothing. No matter how tight I grip my eyes shut, and then open them again, the scenery doesn't change.
I cannot see. And for me, that means I cannot see anything. I wish I could see something...anything... But so far, wishing hasn't changed what I can see.
So, I don't focus on the darkness that extends from my sick eyes. I focus on the light that is within. And because of that light, I can see something! I see more than the eyes can handle. I see what perfectly functioning eyes cannot see.
I see God!
Angela Braden
Monday, May 04, 2009
The Tunnel
The average person has a 180 degree field of vision that they can access to perceive the world. When I contracted the thievish Glaucoma, my field of vision was the first dimension of my sight to be draped by the black cloth of blindness. The walls began to close in as my peripheral vision departed. If I wanted to see something that was on the side of my face, I would have to turn my head to see it. So, If there was something that I needed to see, but didn’t know it was there, I wouldn’t see it at all.
The loss of my peripheral vision proved to be significant when it was time to play with my neighborhood buddies. Being the average, American, ten-year-old girl, I loved to play outside with my friends. We would play kickball, freeze-tag, dodgeball, and would even have a daily foot or bike race down the middle of our young, suburban street.
When my eye sight began to fade, my play time started losing its zeal and carefree participation. I started avoiding the frequent games of dodgeball that was starting to leave my once quick legs splattered with red and purple splashes of pain. I started getting kicked out of kickball because of my inability to follow the flying blue and red ball when a skilled kicker would catapult it into the sky above our heads. I was always getting tagged in our games of freeze-tag, just because I wouldn’t always be able to detect when the “it” person was running on the side of me.
Although most of my play activities had been impacted by my narrowing vision, there was still one activity I could do well. I could still run or spin the pedals in a good race! When it was time to race, the only thing that mattered to the kid that was racing was the finish line. And the finish line was always in front. Not to the side… But straight ahead… This was not a problem for a girl with tunnel vision. So, when it was time to run or ride in a race, I would quickly volunteer to participate.
One day, the kids and I had agreed to race two bike riders down to the green house, which was about eight houses down from the starting spot. Once we got down to the green house, we were to turn around and head back to the finish line, the original starting spot.
I was ready! I jumped on my 10-speed bike and locked my eyes on the green house. The kids screamed go, and my legs started rapidly drawing invisible circles all the way to the green house.
I could hear the kids screaming behind me as I reached the green house. I was the first to make it. I quickly turned my bike around and started heading back to the finish line.
All of the sudden a car turned on our street and was headed right for me. Being the responsible bike rider that I was always trained to be, I quickly shifted my handle bars to drive my speeding bicycle out of the path of the slow driving car. I thought I was in the safety zone until I realized that my speed machine was about to careen into a large industrial van that was parked on the side of the road.
I abruptly squeezed the metal brakes on my shiny handlebar. But it was too late. As the slow driving vehicle passed me, my bike smashed into the back of the van that sat quietly and invisibly on the side of the road.
My small body was knocked off the saddle of the bike; and the wind was knocked out of my body. I lied on the warm cement, staring at the bright red blood that spilled from my right elbow, the dirty van, my damaged bike, and the approaching band of laughing children. By the time the kids made it to me, I was barely breathing. None of them asked if I was okay. “You lost!”, they screamed.
I knew then that life, more specifically, my life had changed. I suddenly realized that this tunnel vision that I heard the doctor say dozens of times really was as dangerous as they described it to be.
I lifted my limp body from the ground, grabbed my bike, and silently walked my bike and unveiled reality back to my sanctuary. I said nothing to the teasing children. I said nothing to myself. I just looked up at the clear sky, and back down to the clean gray street, that now had drippings of my fresh blood.
I left my bike, as well as my visual confidence on the porch and went inside of my house, declaring that would be my last time on my bike. It was…
Angela L. Braden
**Narrative of a Blinding Girl**
The loss of my peripheral vision proved to be significant when it was time to play with my neighborhood buddies. Being the average, American, ten-year-old girl, I loved to play outside with my friends. We would play kickball, freeze-tag, dodgeball, and would even have a daily foot or bike race down the middle of our young, suburban street.
When my eye sight began to fade, my play time started losing its zeal and carefree participation. I started avoiding the frequent games of dodgeball that was starting to leave my once quick legs splattered with red and purple splashes of pain. I started getting kicked out of kickball because of my inability to follow the flying blue and red ball when a skilled kicker would catapult it into the sky above our heads. I was always getting tagged in our games of freeze-tag, just because I wouldn’t always be able to detect when the “it” person was running on the side of me.
Although most of my play activities had been impacted by my narrowing vision, there was still one activity I could do well. I could still run or spin the pedals in a good race! When it was time to race, the only thing that mattered to the kid that was racing was the finish line. And the finish line was always in front. Not to the side… But straight ahead… This was not a problem for a girl with tunnel vision. So, when it was time to run or ride in a race, I would quickly volunteer to participate.
One day, the kids and I had agreed to race two bike riders down to the green house, which was about eight houses down from the starting spot. Once we got down to the green house, we were to turn around and head back to the finish line, the original starting spot.
I was ready! I jumped on my 10-speed bike and locked my eyes on the green house. The kids screamed go, and my legs started rapidly drawing invisible circles all the way to the green house.
I could hear the kids screaming behind me as I reached the green house. I was the first to make it. I quickly turned my bike around and started heading back to the finish line.
All of the sudden a car turned on our street and was headed right for me. Being the responsible bike rider that I was always trained to be, I quickly shifted my handle bars to drive my speeding bicycle out of the path of the slow driving car. I thought I was in the safety zone until I realized that my speed machine was about to careen into a large industrial van that was parked on the side of the road.
I abruptly squeezed the metal brakes on my shiny handlebar. But it was too late. As the slow driving vehicle passed me, my bike smashed into the back of the van that sat quietly and invisibly on the side of the road.
My small body was knocked off the saddle of the bike; and the wind was knocked out of my body. I lied on the warm cement, staring at the bright red blood that spilled from my right elbow, the dirty van, my damaged bike, and the approaching band of laughing children. By the time the kids made it to me, I was barely breathing. None of them asked if I was okay. “You lost!”, they screamed.
I knew then that life, more specifically, my life had changed. I suddenly realized that this tunnel vision that I heard the doctor say dozens of times really was as dangerous as they described it to be.
I lifted my limp body from the ground, grabbed my bike, and silently walked my bike and unveiled reality back to my sanctuary. I said nothing to the teasing children. I said nothing to myself. I just looked up at the clear sky, and back down to the clean gray street, that now had drippings of my fresh blood.
I left my bike, as well as my visual confidence on the porch and went inside of my house, declaring that would be my last time on my bike. It was…
Angela L. Braden
**Narrative of a Blinding Girl**
Friday, April 24, 2009
1 out of 8 Billion
**I've been meaning to write about this in the last few months. Here goes...**
A few weeks before Thanksgiving, my sister, Paula, the mother of two of the children I absolutely adore, called me and gave me some bad news. She informed me that her house had burned to the ground, and they were homeless. Well, of course, because she is my sister, homeless was not even an option. Without hesitation, I moved my sister, her husband, and their two children into our home.
Joseph, who is seven-years-old, insisted on sleeping with his auntie every single night. For some strange reason, he preferred to sleep with me over his mom and dad. And because I love him so much, that was alright with me.
Plus, I might as well share the bed with Joseph. I'm not sharing it with anyone else. LOL
Every night before going to bed, Joseph liked to spend about ten minutes discussing the house fire, his day at school, and desires he had for the future. He also liked to ask me all types of weird questions. But hey, he's 7. There are no silly questions when you're 7.
Well, this particular night that I'll never forget, Joseph lied in my bed in silence. Finally, he called my name. I already knew he had a question for me.
Joseph: Ann, how many people are there in the world?
Me: I don't know Joseph. Maybe 8 billion...
I expected another question. But he didn't say anything else. Then finally, after a few minutes, he broke his silence.
Joseph: You're the only one in the whole world that's blind?
Me: Um, no.
Joseph: Well, where are the other blind people? Where do they live?
Me: What?
I was like, "What in the world is he talking about?" But then I suddenly realized that I am the only blind person that Joseph knows. I'm likely the only blind person he's ever seen before.
I grew up seeing Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles on television. But Joseph's generation doesn't see that many images of blind people on television anymore. Ray has passed away. And Stevie pretty much comes out for very special occasions. So, in Joseph's little head, it really does seem like I'm the only one in the whole wide world that's blind.
Joseph found it necessary to squeeze in one last question before falling asleep. He touched my face so endearingly and asked, "Why did God make you blind and let everybody else see?"
GOOD QUESTION, JO JO LOLOLOL
No, that's not how I responded. I just explained to him that God didn't make me blind. And then I explained to him that there are thousands of blind people who live all over the world. I told him that one day, I'll take him to go meet some children that are blind, so that he can meet children that live life like his auntie. I reassured him that even though most people can see, I'm okay with being blind.
Before he could muster up another question, I gave my love the benediction for the night.
**Quick thought... Whenever I leave this world and go to be at rest, my nieces and nephew will have a treasure of memories that I will have left them on this blog. That's great!!!**
A few weeks before Thanksgiving, my sister, Paula, the mother of two of the children I absolutely adore, called me and gave me some bad news. She informed me that her house had burned to the ground, and they were homeless. Well, of course, because she is my sister, homeless was not even an option. Without hesitation, I moved my sister, her husband, and their two children into our home.
Joseph, who is seven-years-old, insisted on sleeping with his auntie every single night. For some strange reason, he preferred to sleep with me over his mom and dad. And because I love him so much, that was alright with me.
Plus, I might as well share the bed with Joseph. I'm not sharing it with anyone else. LOL
Every night before going to bed, Joseph liked to spend about ten minutes discussing the house fire, his day at school, and desires he had for the future. He also liked to ask me all types of weird questions. But hey, he's 7. There are no silly questions when you're 7.
Well, this particular night that I'll never forget, Joseph lied in my bed in silence. Finally, he called my name. I already knew he had a question for me.
Joseph: Ann, how many people are there in the world?
Me: I don't know Joseph. Maybe 8 billion...
I expected another question. But he didn't say anything else. Then finally, after a few minutes, he broke his silence.
Joseph: You're the only one in the whole world that's blind?
Me: Um, no.
Joseph: Well, where are the other blind people? Where do they live?
Me: What?
I was like, "What in the world is he talking about?" But then I suddenly realized that I am the only blind person that Joseph knows. I'm likely the only blind person he's ever seen before.
I grew up seeing Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles on television. But Joseph's generation doesn't see that many images of blind people on television anymore. Ray has passed away. And Stevie pretty much comes out for very special occasions. So, in Joseph's little head, it really does seem like I'm the only one in the whole wide world that's blind.
Joseph found it necessary to squeeze in one last question before falling asleep. He touched my face so endearingly and asked, "Why did God make you blind and let everybody else see?"
GOOD QUESTION, JO JO LOLOLOL
No, that's not how I responded. I just explained to him that God didn't make me blind. And then I explained to him that there are thousands of blind people who live all over the world. I told him that one day, I'll take him to go meet some children that are blind, so that he can meet children that live life like his auntie. I reassured him that even though most people can see, I'm okay with being blind.
Before he could muster up another question, I gave my love the benediction for the night.
**Quick thought... Whenever I leave this world and go to be at rest, my nieces and nephew will have a treasure of memories that I will have left them on this blog. That's great!!!**
Sunday, April 12, 2009
RANDOM THOUGHTS ABOUT VERY SPECIFIC THINGS
These are my random thoughts.
**It's 3:30 AM. And I'm so sleepy that I feel drunk. I'm warning you. LOL**
1. I hate that it seems that my body loves fat. It doesn't mind welcoming new fat. And it fights to hold on to undesirable fat.
I'm here to serve an eviction notice. Excessive Fat, you need to go! I have had it with you!
2. I am angry with myself for gaining weight. I feel so stupid for allowing myself to pick up weight that I worked so hard to lose. Why couldn't I just continue to work out everyday?! **sighing**
3. Why are clothes so expensive? I went to the mall tonight. I saw a couple cute suits that would be great atire for a speaking engagement. But the $150 and up price tags were a major issue. **sigh**
If they are paying women in other countries 2 pennies to make these clothes, then why in the hell are they so high? American greed, I tell you!
4. This hair dryer is burning my neck. I guess I need to get a towel and drape it around my shoulders.
This is why 9.5 times out of 10, I let my hair air-dry. This heat is bothersome.
5. I wish I could see.
6. The weather in Houston has been nice. I wish it could stay like this all year.
7. Ladama crossed my mind a minute ago. Who is Ladama?
Ladama was my roommate in high school. We lived together for three years.
Sadly, two years ago, my friend died of cancer.
I wonder why God would take her home and leave me here.
There must be something He requires from me.
I must make the best of this time He has given me.
8. I'm not sure if I want to get married. But a boyfriend would sure be nice.
9. I want my parents to live forever.
10. I'm so tired. So, why is it that I don't give myself permission to rest?
I've suffered from inconsistent sleeping patterns since I was a teen. For some strange reason, I cannot sleep, unless I am about to pass out. Ridiculous! I've got to start doing better.
11. I wish I was rich.
12. The value of my house dropped by $30K. I'm pi$$ed!
13. My neck is still burning. Where's a towel?
14. I don't want to go to church in the morning. But I'll be there.
14. I want to video tape my next speaking engagement. However, I'm reluctant to allow someone to record me at this weight. I need to try to lose some weight first!
15. I'm about to get from under this dryer, and get in the bed. I've reached that level of tired.
Good night
AB
**It's 3:30 AM. And I'm so sleepy that I feel drunk. I'm warning you. LOL**
1. I hate that it seems that my body loves fat. It doesn't mind welcoming new fat. And it fights to hold on to undesirable fat.
I'm here to serve an eviction notice. Excessive Fat, you need to go! I have had it with you!
2. I am angry with myself for gaining weight. I feel so stupid for allowing myself to pick up weight that I worked so hard to lose. Why couldn't I just continue to work out everyday?! **sighing**
3. Why are clothes so expensive? I went to the mall tonight. I saw a couple cute suits that would be great atire for a speaking engagement. But the $150 and up price tags were a major issue. **sigh**
If they are paying women in other countries 2 pennies to make these clothes, then why in the hell are they so high? American greed, I tell you!
4. This hair dryer is burning my neck. I guess I need to get a towel and drape it around my shoulders.
This is why 9.5 times out of 10, I let my hair air-dry. This heat is bothersome.
5. I wish I could see.
6. The weather in Houston has been nice. I wish it could stay like this all year.
7. Ladama crossed my mind a minute ago. Who is Ladama?
Ladama was my roommate in high school. We lived together for three years.
Sadly, two years ago, my friend died of cancer.
I wonder why God would take her home and leave me here.
There must be something He requires from me.
I must make the best of this time He has given me.
8. I'm not sure if I want to get married. But a boyfriend would sure be nice.
9. I want my parents to live forever.
10. I'm so tired. So, why is it that I don't give myself permission to rest?
I've suffered from inconsistent sleeping patterns since I was a teen. For some strange reason, I cannot sleep, unless I am about to pass out. Ridiculous! I've got to start doing better.
11. I wish I was rich.
12. The value of my house dropped by $30K. I'm pi$$ed!
13. My neck is still burning. Where's a towel?
14. I don't want to go to church in the morning. But I'll be there.
14. I want to video tape my next speaking engagement. However, I'm reluctant to allow someone to record me at this weight. I need to try to lose some weight first!
15. I'm about to get from under this dryer, and get in the bed. I've reached that level of tired.
Good night
AB
Friday, April 10, 2009
Darkness to Light (Repost)
At the tender age of ten tribulation crashed upon me like a boulder to my head. Without any perceivable warning, I developed a severe case of Glaucoma in both of my eyes. The discovery of this thieving disease, unmercifully engaged my parents, my doctors, and me into a seven year, painstaking war to save at least a fraction of my fleeting sight. I endured 14 painful surgeries and countless visits to my eye specialist.
It did not take long for me to run to the arms of Jesus for comfort. I also wanted him to grant me perfect health. I had been told all my life that God was a healer. I earnestly believed with all my heart that God was going to heal me of my illness. Why wouldn't he?
I continued to fast and pray for the next few years. But instead of getting my sight back, I eventually lost it all. The light of day was captured in my head, only to serve as a mere memory. I was now totally blind. I never imagined that I would ever be visually disconnected from the world. What was I going to do? I never planned for this to happen. In fact, I never believed that this miserable day would come. I thought for sure that God would have healed me by then. How was I to function as a blind woman?
Because my persistent prayer for healing seemed to be ignored, I collapsed into a greater depth of depression than I could have ever imagined. A storm of defeat washed over me, and my mind began to travel to the land of sorrow. I trembled at the thought of living my life as a blind woman. I began to ask myself, "Will anyone marry me if I have a visual disability? Who wants a 'blindy' for a wife? How can I be a mother with no eye sight? Do I still have a chance at a promising career?" I knew one thing and one thing only. I would rather die than become an old blind woman. I became consumed with the idea of being "blind forever."
I had trouble sleeping. My heart hemorrhaged with pain. Fear caused me to lie restless until the rebirth of dawn. I was so frightened that I would fall asleep and wake up still without the vision of day.
Desperately enough, I wanted to die. Thoughts of suicide fought to apprehend me. I was obsessed with the idea of death. I would daydream about creative ways to kill myself.
All my life, I was told, "If you believe, then you will receive", "If you ask in Jesus' name, it will come to pass", "All it takes to be healed is mustard seed faith." Well, I began to believe that God's promises were all a lie. Why wasn't I a recipient of the promises of God?
Then I began to wonder was something wrong with me. Perverse thoughts began to storm through my head. "God must not love me. If he did he would give me my sight back. God will never heal me. I am paying for the sins of my forefathers."
It seemed that sound reasoning had been evacuated. The devil convinced me to believe the pack of lies he tossed my way. I started to decay within, due to my deprivation of truth.
The cloud of depression grew thicker, and the light of Jesus Christ seemed to diminish. Hope for my healing had vanished, and the love of God was no longer visible to me. Not only did I lose my physical sight, my spiritual vision had also been blurred. Spirits of heaviness, despair, defeat, and fear swarmed around me and attempted to choke the life from my soul. I was dying, both physically and spiritually.
But I wasn't dead yet! God can restore and heal the wounded soul. The Lord breathed the restoration of life into my soul, and I embraced the comfort that He affords believers who trust Him even when they are in confusing, hurtful, strained situations.
I am so thankful to God that He used the faithful, kind, and persistent ministry of a college friend to rescue me from the depths of sadness and sorrow. Yes, I am still physically blind; however, God has granted me spiritual vision. Vision that will enable me to press forward and remain focused on maximizing my life potential.
God wants us to love, trust, and maintain our faith even when times get hard. I am a living witness that it is difficult to follow God when the way is dim. But we must stand on his word and know it is true. We are commanded to walk in faith and not to base our decisions in accordance to the things we see.
When the darkness of night falls all around us, the sun is not visible to the eye. But that does not mean it is not there. The earth has revolved and caused a delusion. The sun seems to disappear at the dusk of every evening. Then the moon makes its nightly appearance. The light from the moon is simply a reflection of the sun, reminding us that the sun is still alive.
It wasn't until I loss my sight that I began to “see”. Over the years, I began to understand the difference between sight and vision. Sight is a function of the eyes. But vision is a function of the spirit. There are many people that have sight. But very few possess vision.
The Lord desires for us to utilize our spiritual vision by way of faith, so that we might see the plan of God. God does not work off of facts. He is a God of possibilities. Don't become blinded by what you see. Look beyond the physical rim and focus on the promises of God. Never forget that God is able to do what man deems to be impossible. Open your eyes, and see the glory of the Lord!
Angie Braden
It did not take long for me to run to the arms of Jesus for comfort. I also wanted him to grant me perfect health. I had been told all my life that God was a healer. I earnestly believed with all my heart that God was going to heal me of my illness. Why wouldn't he?
I continued to fast and pray for the next few years. But instead of getting my sight back, I eventually lost it all. The light of day was captured in my head, only to serve as a mere memory. I was now totally blind. I never imagined that I would ever be visually disconnected from the world. What was I going to do? I never planned for this to happen. In fact, I never believed that this miserable day would come. I thought for sure that God would have healed me by then. How was I to function as a blind woman?
Because my persistent prayer for healing seemed to be ignored, I collapsed into a greater depth of depression than I could have ever imagined. A storm of defeat washed over me, and my mind began to travel to the land of sorrow. I trembled at the thought of living my life as a blind woman. I began to ask myself, "Will anyone marry me if I have a visual disability? Who wants a 'blindy' for a wife? How can I be a mother with no eye sight? Do I still have a chance at a promising career?" I knew one thing and one thing only. I would rather die than become an old blind woman. I became consumed with the idea of being "blind forever."
I had trouble sleeping. My heart hemorrhaged with pain. Fear caused me to lie restless until the rebirth of dawn. I was so frightened that I would fall asleep and wake up still without the vision of day.
Desperately enough, I wanted to die. Thoughts of suicide fought to apprehend me. I was obsessed with the idea of death. I would daydream about creative ways to kill myself.
All my life, I was told, "If you believe, then you will receive", "If you ask in Jesus' name, it will come to pass", "All it takes to be healed is mustard seed faith." Well, I began to believe that God's promises were all a lie. Why wasn't I a recipient of the promises of God?
Then I began to wonder was something wrong with me. Perverse thoughts began to storm through my head. "God must not love me. If he did he would give me my sight back. God will never heal me. I am paying for the sins of my forefathers."
It seemed that sound reasoning had been evacuated. The devil convinced me to believe the pack of lies he tossed my way. I started to decay within, due to my deprivation of truth.
The cloud of depression grew thicker, and the light of Jesus Christ seemed to diminish. Hope for my healing had vanished, and the love of God was no longer visible to me. Not only did I lose my physical sight, my spiritual vision had also been blurred. Spirits of heaviness, despair, defeat, and fear swarmed around me and attempted to choke the life from my soul. I was dying, both physically and spiritually.
But I wasn't dead yet! God can restore and heal the wounded soul. The Lord breathed the restoration of life into my soul, and I embraced the comfort that He affords believers who trust Him even when they are in confusing, hurtful, strained situations.
I am so thankful to God that He used the faithful, kind, and persistent ministry of a college friend to rescue me from the depths of sadness and sorrow. Yes, I am still physically blind; however, God has granted me spiritual vision. Vision that will enable me to press forward and remain focused on maximizing my life potential.
God wants us to love, trust, and maintain our faith even when times get hard. I am a living witness that it is difficult to follow God when the way is dim. But we must stand on his word and know it is true. We are commanded to walk in faith and not to base our decisions in accordance to the things we see.
When the darkness of night falls all around us, the sun is not visible to the eye. But that does not mean it is not there. The earth has revolved and caused a delusion. The sun seems to disappear at the dusk of every evening. Then the moon makes its nightly appearance. The light from the moon is simply a reflection of the sun, reminding us that the sun is still alive.
It wasn't until I loss my sight that I began to “see”. Over the years, I began to understand the difference between sight and vision. Sight is a function of the eyes. But vision is a function of the spirit. There are many people that have sight. But very few possess vision.
The Lord desires for us to utilize our spiritual vision by way of faith, so that we might see the plan of God. God does not work off of facts. He is a God of possibilities. Don't become blinded by what you see. Look beyond the physical rim and focus on the promises of God. Never forget that God is able to do what man deems to be impossible. Open your eyes, and see the glory of the Lord!
Angie Braden
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Broken Pieces
A couple weeks ago, my aunt, who has made it abundantly clear that she has nothing but disdain towards me, stopped by the house to bring my family copies of individual and family photos. She placed copies of specific photos in various envelopes, and labeled the envelope with the names of the persons she intended to have those particular pictures.
Well, of course, I needed assistance with identifying my envelope. My sister opened the envelope that was labeled for "Angela". To our dismay, we found more than just pictures of me as a child, teenager, and young adult.
What we found were pictures that had been sliced into creepy, violent displays of her anger towards me.
Yes, my aunt, my mother's sister, is so angry with me that she found it necessary to gather pictures of me, cut them up, place them in an envelope, and drive them 20 miles from her home to deliver them to my hand.
The truth is that I am not quite sure why this woman hates me so much. I, along with my mother and father, have our suspicions why my aunt has so much hatred in her heart towards me. But the truth is that I cannot understand the intensity of the hate.
Yes, she is mentally ill. But again, why has she decided to angle her pain, anger, resentment, bitterness, and resentment towards me? It's so baffling to me.
What I found to also be confusing is the fact that my aunt would cut up pictures and give them to a blind woman. I can't see them. So, the effect was lost in the darkness that extends from my eyes. I'm sure she didn't think about that.
I'm supposing that the visual image of the pictures would have probably disturbed me. Just holding the sliced up pictures in my hands kind of shook me up. So, seeing it would have likely had a profound impact on me.
But I didn't see them. And this time, I'm glad that I couldn't see.
I believe that my relationship with my aunt is intractable. Our relationship has been sliced, just as the pictures in the envelope. Except, we can take those pictures and put them together and scan them to restore the image. There is no tool, no method, no pressure that can restore my relationship with my aunt.
And the sad thing is that I'm okay with that. I truly am done. I hate it has to be this way. But it does... I have decided that I will no longer be a participant in that abusive relationship.
The End
**Note: One other sister also received cut up pictures. But we know why she's so mad at her. We are in the fog as it pertains to me.
I made a decision to not tell my mother about the pictures. She didn't need to see that. It would have hurt her to know that her sister is that hateful.
I also made a decision to not acknowledge the sliced up pictures to my aunt. I will not entertain her nonsense any longer.**
Angela Braden
Free Woman
Well, of course, I needed assistance with identifying my envelope. My sister opened the envelope that was labeled for "Angela". To our dismay, we found more than just pictures of me as a child, teenager, and young adult.
What we found were pictures that had been sliced into creepy, violent displays of her anger towards me.
Yes, my aunt, my mother's sister, is so angry with me that she found it necessary to gather pictures of me, cut them up, place them in an envelope, and drive them 20 miles from her home to deliver them to my hand.
The truth is that I am not quite sure why this woman hates me so much. I, along with my mother and father, have our suspicions why my aunt has so much hatred in her heart towards me. But the truth is that I cannot understand the intensity of the hate.
Yes, she is mentally ill. But again, why has she decided to angle her pain, anger, resentment, bitterness, and resentment towards me? It's so baffling to me.
What I found to also be confusing is the fact that my aunt would cut up pictures and give them to a blind woman. I can't see them. So, the effect was lost in the darkness that extends from my eyes. I'm sure she didn't think about that.
I'm supposing that the visual image of the pictures would have probably disturbed me. Just holding the sliced up pictures in my hands kind of shook me up. So, seeing it would have likely had a profound impact on me.
But I didn't see them. And this time, I'm glad that I couldn't see.
I believe that my relationship with my aunt is intractable. Our relationship has been sliced, just as the pictures in the envelope. Except, we can take those pictures and put them together and scan them to restore the image. There is no tool, no method, no pressure that can restore my relationship with my aunt.
And the sad thing is that I'm okay with that. I truly am done. I hate it has to be this way. But it does... I have decided that I will no longer be a participant in that abusive relationship.
The End
**Note: One other sister also received cut up pictures. But we know why she's so mad at her. We are in the fog as it pertains to me.
I made a decision to not tell my mother about the pictures. She didn't need to see that. It would have hurt her to know that her sister is that hateful.
I also made a decision to not acknowledge the sliced up pictures to my aunt. I will not entertain her nonsense any longer.**
Angela Braden
Free Woman
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