Being Blind In The Kitchen
I am blind.
This is not a statement of truth that came easily to me. My vision has slowly dimmed over the past 57 years. I could “pass as sighted” up until a few years ago. I had to make a conscious decision to begin using the word “blind” to describe myself.
Well, I am over it, for the most part. I have learned to just say, “I’m blind” whenever I meet a new person, or anytime a situation could become awkward. I have even learned to laugh instead of cry when something embarrassing happens.
I can’t tell you how many times I have poured hot coffee in an upside down mug or poured it into an already filled mug. That was more a problem of sleepiness and inattention rather than blindness but I doubt it would have happened if I could see. I have also poured chicken broth into my coffee instead of almond milk. This too was due to an unorganized refrigerator and just not thinking to give it a sniff before pouring. These are just my coffee stories.
A few Thanksgivings ago I started a new tradition. I cut up sweet potatoes with one of my favorite knives. I was very attached to this knife. Well, after the potatoes had been cooking for a while, I noticed an interesting fragrance coming from the oven. I tried to deny it but finally I had to check. The knife was melting right along side of the potatoes. I was mad at myself for doing it, but at the same time, we all had a good laugh. Now, when we cook sweet potatoes, my family says, “Don’t forget the knife.” I still have that knife, with what I call, “the artistic handle.”
I have lots of blindness in the kitchen stories. I put beer in my 5 year olds’ lunch bag. You can read this blog post call “Beer Not Lemonade” on my website.
I also stored the ground beef in the pantry thinking it was flour. That was just gross but it makes for a good story now.
There was a time when I would not have dared share these stories. I would have gotten teary and disappeared until I could get a grip on my emotions. I had to consciously decide to get over it and to declare to myself. I am blind and I am not ashamed! It took some practice but I can say it now and know that it is the truth. I am learning to accept blindness. The more I accept it, the easier it is to laugh at the situations in which I find myself. Now, I actually enjoy telling these stories.
I would love to hear your blind in the kitchen stories. You can comment on our Facebook page, follow us on Twitter, or join our BlindAlive Community on Facebook. Or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. If I can help you overcome any difficulty and we can laugh together, that would be a good thing.
Good Health to You,