I was asked today by
a lovely lady a question I shall try to answer firstly in my words then in
brief how my Husband views this subject.
Twenty years ago, I lost my vision so I have memories of
sight but my Husband was born blind so has no concept of sight what so ever!
The question was. “As I was walking the other day through
woods, I enjoyed the beauty of the gold red and brown leaves, with the green
moss and mushrooms growing like spires up the trees. A beautiful autumn day and
I thought, whilst following previous footsteps, what do those without sight see
from the outside world and how do they perceive beauty?””
I know from a sighted person what is beauty. Or what it
meant to me. On someone’s face, features, hair colour, colour of eyes, a
certain kind of smile. The formation of flowers, finger like trees stretching
to the beautiful baby blue sky with white fluffy clouds leaving the onlookers
wondering just how they stay in the sky with the hint of yellow threatening to
break through the sky at any moment!
I know what it looks like to see a deep red car, just new
from the garage. A brand new painted wall of a pastel colour or a cute puppy. A
beautiful dress how it hangs, the colour, cut and how pretty someone looks in
it.
How beautiful healthy shiny hair looks or pure beauty from a
snow fox. A deer, or a waterfall. Colours can just grab you. Pull you in like a
force that you have no idea where it’s come from but the strength is immense
almost as if to hypnotise you so you can’t turn your head away for a second,
almost making it impossible to pull yourself away from looking at the beauty
before you. Perhaps the colours of the nature in South Africa? I have only seen
this on the TV, but I will never forget it, I found it breath takingly
beautiful.
Snow falling in December as I would watch the shapes from my
window with the candle glowing and the Christmas lights from the corner of my
eye. All that was a beauty I sadly never stopped for a second to appreciate
when I did have sight. Gosh, what I would give now to see that again.
So, what is beauty to me? On a person, their voice, their
personality, their attitude to life, the perfume or aftershave they wear. On a
lady/girl, her soft hands if I take her arm, nice material from a jacket or
blouse. Flowers now, I can’t see and when I lost my sight, it was Spring, my
favourite time of year, as I love yellow and my favourite flowers used to
always be daffodils. I will never forget just how I felt when I realised I will
never again see a daffodil, let alone see the colour yellow.
I buy flowers for my vase and plant them in my garden, but
all they are to me now is fragrance and I know they must look good to others. I
still try my best to arrange them as I used to when I could see. There isn’t
that deep depression now like there was for the first I would say seven or
eight years after I went blind, but I don’t wear an expression of pure glee
when I am arranging them now I just think about how they smell and what other
people are going to see and think when they see them. So, if I lived in a world
on my own, would I still have flowers in a vase or garden? I doubt it. And that
is sad.
Beauty is feeling how soft my dog’s fir is. A hug from my grown-up
Son. He was one when I went blind, he was the most beautiful baby I had ever
seen in my life. Everyone said he had the features of a baby angel. He had tiny
white blonde curls and stunning light blue eyes with the most perfect face,
lips and little cheeks. I would have professional photographs taken of him and
have them all over my walls. Sadly, now I don’t own any. Not of him since he
was about a year old. A very close friend of ours can’t see videos of his grandchildren
so he has recorded them so he can keep memories of their voices as he is blind
too. When I heard them, beauty was the love he showed his grandchildren in his sincere
voice. Beauty is a voice, a smell, if I walk through crisp leaves, I feel sad,
sad that I no longer want to pick them up and take home to dry and put in a
vase. Now it’s noise, and frustrating noise, as I want to see them again.
I think beauty is a strong word that for sure isn’t just for
the sighted. My brain tells me what is beautiful, but mainly that’s from
memory, so, what is beauty to someone who has never seen?
I put that question to my Husband and he said it’s a
feeling. A sensation. Something serene. If something is beautiful, it’s
normally a feeling he has had before that fills him with happiness. He told me
the other day that I looked beautiful as we were about to go out to dinner. I
just asked him, what made him think I was beautiful? He answered.
“I was proud of you. It made me feel closer to you. I loved
the material of your dress. It was an honour to be by your side.””
I asked him does he think the countryside is beautiful? He
replied.
“Yes, but it’s more of a feeling opposed to what I can see.””
So, I guess beauty is a feeling, a memory to us. But I dream
to see beauty with my eyes again. I crave colours. I miss them so much and my
memory of them is dying!
© Fiona Cummings
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