Eyes

The English painter, J.M.W. Turner didn't see things like most people. Errol's eyes don't work the way others' do, and because of his visual impairment, he can hardly see past his arm. I don't know if Errol's world is a beautiful riot of color, or a web of confusion, but he works hard to make sense out of the visual clues that slide right past his straining eyes.

We're doing everything we can to help him have good vision. We bought some little puppets that attach to Errol's wrists. Errol juts his arm up straight in the air, and stares intently at his puppeted fists for the longest time. At school, Errol gets vision therapy once a week, where they put him inside a sensory deprivation box which helps him focus on the beams of light the vision therapist shines into his cave. Since Errol doesn't respond well to sight (except at close distance) we spend a lot of time at home touching or rubbing his face to stimulate him. Our faces are often within inches of his as we smile at each other. He coos and laughs as we rub his cheeks or play with his chin. He loves the sensations he can get through touch but which are lacking through vision. We hope Errol's vision therapy will increase his visual ability and the richness of his life, but if it doesn't, we also know that an impairment of one sense can sharpen other senses. As with so many things, only time will tell, but one thing that's for certain is that Errol has already shown us a wider way of seeing.



Eyesight

It was May before my
attention came
to spring and

my word I said
to the southern slopes
I’ve

missed it, it
came and went before
I got right to see:

don't worry, said the mountain,
try the later northern slopes
or if

you can climb, climb
into spring: but
said the mountain

it’s not that way
with all things, some
that go are gone

A.R. Ammons