DREAMS DO COME TRUE

DREAMS DO COME TRUE BY FIONA CUMMINGS I have dreamed of him, almost all of my life In my slumber, I would be his wife But in reality, I didn’t stand a chance He had a family, no room for a new romance I learned through a friend, his world was pretend His laughter during the day, by night would end He prayed his pain would go away, but his kindness he had to lend His wife was a taker, he was a lamb to the slaughter He needed setting free, released from his jailor Who would do that? Would it be me? What did I have to offer him but my heart? But he knew that from the start What could I give him other than my life? A peaceful way of living, I would keep giving But how could I get him to believe in me I could set him free If only he would come to me Where would I start, other than words from my heart Love in his life, for the first time ever A promise he would find light, in his world without colour If we only live once, then allow choice Look to the stars, and rejoice Follow the rainbow and find that pot of gold Metaphorically of course As you can’t buy love, it can’t be forced He needed to put his trust in me To turn away from poison he called family Was I ready to take on this challenge? To except the revenge To fight for, to defend To pull towards me something that was tenacious To open his heart to life full of tenderness To wipe his mind of words so verminous To show him he could be courageous I would have to be strong As I believe he and I belong as one Two halves that were parted In another lifetime Broken hearted But now was our time If you believe in something strong enough Go for it, never give up © Fiona Cummings

WALKING IN THE DARKNESS BY FIONA CUMMINGS

 

What is it like to go for a walk in the countryside when you are blind? Well, for me, it’s like this.

 

If it is a new place, I do worry in case where we will walk will be undulated or flat, if hilly, will there be pot holes or ditches? Because I can find the smallest crack in the ground, almost even if the path or road is just thinking about cracking, I find it and hurt.

 

Well yesterday we went to a beautiful part of the countryside, I’m told and by description of a sighted lovely we went with, I was able to imagine. The cottages are in some cases over six hundred years old. There gothic arched windows smile out at the cobbled streets. Cobbles from days when horses had to grip onto the roads whilst they transported people in carriages. They have blue slate roofs and open fires inside.  We went past the castle and that to me meant nothing as I wouldn’t have a clue what it looked like. We heard the sounds of the waterfall. A photograph was taking of us and one of the waterfalls where my friend commented she loved the ornate bridge. I wasn’t even aware there was a bridge until she said. And I adore bridges. Why? Not really sure it’s just something I have loved since I was very young.

 

We walked up a hill that Jack and Jill would be proud of.

 

I didn’t reach the part where I felt as if I was going to die on the spot. Thank God for my treadmill for that. Oh, and an extra puff on my inhaler before leaving that morning.

 

Our sighted friend told us there was a red kite as in the bird of pray above us. I couldn’t even imagine that as when I had sight, I never saw one. There were colourful farmers crop fields all around us. Tall trees that I am sure could tell me many stories about the past. If only trees could speak the same language as me?

 

Colourful fields? I saw different shades in my minds eye, but they were shades as I really am forgetting pale colours. So, they were just squares of different greys. Not pretty.

 

The air was fresh. No floral smells though. Because of earlier rain, the soil left a fragrance of earth. I love that smell. There were a few footsteps coming towards us, peoples voices saying hello. Very friendly people mainly walking their dogs who were of course interested in our four legged fur balls.

 

As we stopped to not step on their let loose dogs, I stupidly looked down and smiled. Oh yes, of course I still can see.

Not.

So, why do I do that acting sighted thing? Should I look straight ahead? No, I have to try to look as they do, and look at something I can’t see. That is a bad habit I have.

 

Am I ashamed of not being able to see? No, not at all. I used to be, but now I’m proud of what I can do and what I have achieved being blind.

 

I titled this blog as walking in the dark, but guess what? it’s not dark for me. Or Hub. For Hub it’s nothing like looking from his elbow. What do you see from your elbow? Black? No, nothing that is what he doesn’t see. As for me, well I have a varied blindness of grey, white dark red or brown with the odd times of black spots on top of greyness. But no shadows or difference between day and night. Sometimes at midnight outside I see white sheets in front of me as if there is a light on. Then during the day when it’s sunny, I see dark red as if the curtains are closed, but I wouldn’t say I walk in the darkness. So, why did I title my blog as that? Not sure but my old readers will know I don’t think of my titles, I write the first thing that comes to my mind. And leave it as that and that way, it’s my spirit writing and my spirit is the writer in me, not my mind or my shell.

 

Before I go off on one and talk about spirit, I will continue with my walk.

 

I could smell roses but that was my friends’ perfume. I imagined the long grass to my right and the crops. The tall varied trees but not sure I see a tree like you who are with sight would. I see a tree like I could when I had sight. And that sight was limited.

 

 Slowly I am forgetting what certain things look like, but a basic tree I don’t think I will ever forget.

 

My friend took a pic of the trees forming an arch with the golden sun shining through the branches. She said it was beautiful. In the distance there was purple heather I think but again, I was told this in words, I have never seen heather but I have seen purple and that is a colour I don’t think I will ever forget. It seems to be the pastel colours I am forgetting.

 

In the vast water fall, there were two ducks swimming. I thought they were brave. I was told the waterfall was in steps that was why it was making that sound. So perhaps it sounded more aggressive than it actually was.

 

My walk was ended with a delicious rum and raison ice cream. Sitting in the village green with lots of happy chatting people all around. Not too close though. Again, if you had sight, you could eat a tasty ice, or sip on a freshly made coffee and enjoy people watching, but we can’t watch, we can only hear and sometimes we capture more than those with us who have sight. But still I would swap my vision or lack of it any day to be able to see what those with sight see.

 

But I am grateful to have been able to get out for some hours. Exhausted by night and made more memories with my love and our dogs.