Do you remember much from back in your childhood?
I do. I remember there were so many wonderful things, toys, and adventures, the perfect combination for endless fun growing up. With a vivid imagination, anything was possible. Believing it was so real opened the door to so many “places” you could go.
Time has a way of making those days seem so perfect and special. Days were endless and responsibilities were naught. The days agenda were only to see how much we could pack into the daylight hours, bounding from each adventure to the next.
Truly dating myself, I see a treasure chest of toys in those memories. With a family of four girls, there was a surplus supply of barbie dolls. Complete with outfits for all occasions and shoes too. Sidewalk games of “Jacks” accompanied with crazy “superballs” and scraped knuckles, “Marbles” to game and barter with, jump ropes to master if you were good enough. Hippty-hop balls could send you bouncing across the yard, and bicycles were perfect for unending journeys and swing sets to sail the skies.
There were View-Master's to marvel at as the tiny pictures rotated around its wheel, nothing short of magical. Etch-a-Sketch with two tiny wheels to turn to create pictures on the little screen. The Kaleidoscope, with a flick of the wrist, could create an incredible array of color, with such brightness, no two views ever the same. A vivid view at the time and now a remembrance I see most days during my daily “eye checks”.
I often wonder if others see it, too. I will carefully close my unaffected eye, and focus on my eye chart. In that first glimpse, I can see it. That shadowy shape, just across the center of vision in my affected eye, almost like the whorl of a thumbprint. In that strange, uneven shape, I can see it. My own, personal, Kaleidoscope.
Unfortunately, it does not hold the vivid colors and shapes of my childhood toy.
It does not change and honestly, does not make me smile at its display. Most days it remains the same in somber gray tones, but at times there is almost a turquoise tint about it. Mostly its acts as a block, a hinderance to what is just beyond. Rending that view useless in its “swarmy-ness”. No matter how I try to clear it by blinking or squinty, it’s still there, robbing me of the clearness that once was there.
Moving forward, I open both my eyes and take in the view once again.
My vision sorts itself out, taking in the colors around me. Not exactly a kaleidoscope, but still a smattering of brightness and light that can only make me smile, remembering the toys of my past has made me appreciate so much.
A time when the days seemed endless and carefree, bringing to mind a true and deeper appreciation for the world around me. Seeing what I can see, no matter how smeary and fuzzy it may seem at times, I find I am thankful for any and all of it.
Are you aware of assistive technology for AMD?