03 March 2005
mr. d
i had a lovely encounter yesterday that has preoccupied my mind for the past day. i volunteer for a community organization which, among other things, has a senior service contingent. as a part of my volunteering, i drive seniors to their medical appointments. i get away from my dissertation, get to chat with interesting people, and seniors get to the appointments they need to be getting to.
yesterday, i picked up mr. d at his house. when i called him to remind him the night before, i got his answering machine which simply said "just do it!". he was waiting outside, and i guided him to the car. you see, mr. d lost his vision when he was a young man (not even 20), and needed my arm to find his way to the car.
we sat in the car and talked a bit. immediately, the topic of conversation moved to universities, colleges, what i was doing, and, of course, what he was up to. he is a WWII vet. he lost his vision during a mortar attack in one of the worst battles in the pacific, and woke up two weeks later in guam. for the rest of his life, he ran a very successful small business here in the area, with over 10 employees. he never married, lived with his mother until she passed away.
on the GI bill, he was able to go to my alma mater. we talked about the dorm he lived in (they used to have maid service). i told him that the dorms are now mostly co-ed, and he thought that was weird. then he reconsidered, and said he might want to re-enroll as a freshman if the dorms were now co-ed.
this man had the best possible attitude you can imagine. he said he knew when he was wounded, before he blanked out, that his life was in the process of changing. and that he just had to live his life to the fullest.
completely blind before the age of 20, mr. d's health is excellent. his house is meticulous (he has people who do his cooking and cleaning). he has over 15 fruit trees in his back yard. he has a jacuzzi and is traveling to central america in a month or two for a vacation.
anyways, it stuck with me as an amazing encounter. if someone with a disability is able to lead a happy and fun life ("happiness comes from inside", he told me), then I - very fortunate - just need to change my attitude. i get to get a phd. i'm lucky that way. i get to decide if i want to take some time off when we start a family. i am extremely fortunate.
he is an amazing man, and i hope i get to drive him around again some time. there is so much more to say about him, but i'll leave it at this for right now.
dandlioneyes at 11:45 am