By Jejaira Siwela (ZIMSA)
He opened his eyes once more, or at least he thought they were open, but, he knew he was fully awake. A pitch-black curtain hanged over his eyes, reminding him that this was yet to be another day to be great; a day to be extraordinary. Well, that came as part of the accessories of incubating something peculiar within
himself, something transformational. Not everyone would totally understand neither fully fathom nor comprehend what he envisioned. Humorously to him, vision was precisely what he was devoid of. Nevertheless, he was going to make this metamorphosis in achieving an exquisite new array of stripes enthralling.
Tugging the heavy blankets away, Mathew hoped Amy had placed his slippers in the right position– four inches away from the bed. He was quite meticulous in all his ways, which Amy found tedious and redundant. If only she could slip her toy feet into his slippers, then maybe she might understand. Regardless of the fuss she makes, Amy was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, at least
right after this new odyssey. She was quite fond of him, and him of her. Being his caregiver, her work valued beyond her pay check, and he was forever grateful. He was fully aware of the arduousness that came with her workload, and well, dealing with his intricate self.
Slipping into his shoes, his hand simultaneously scrutinized the bed surface for his stick, which he insisted on sleeping next to it. He swiftly made a beeline across the room towards what he perceived as the door, which fortunately for him, was also near the kitchen, where he could hear banging and clicking of utensils. His visual impairment had augmented his other senses, making him to be more or less an eximious expect in the whereabouts of his house. His own house. The phrase always sounded bizarre and foreign, accompanied by a slight sting on his left chest. Maybe it was all for the best, he assured himself. Besides, the departure of his wife, this was exactly what he need to discover the inconspicuous superpowers hidden within himself.
Upon being diagnosed with neuromyelitis optica spectrum, his life took a drastic turn, or maybe, a necessary turn. As he grappled the loss of his vision, he also faced the painful departure of his wife, the dissolution of his career, and the heart- wrenching abandonment of his children, who all claimed it was “too much for them.”. But amidst this sea of anguish, one question lingered: Did they truly
comprehend his emotional state? All he yearned for was a compassionate hand to grasp his own as he voyaged across this new ocean waves, and a comforting voice to assure him that everything would be alright. He craved someone who could silence the cacophony of his newfound companions—depression, despair, and agony. Someone to remind him of who he truly was. Maybe they themselves had
no idea either. Well, this new ocean had proved to be an adventure he would treasure. In the midst of its turmoil, he unearthed a new identity, perhaps his true potential, discovered reservoirs of courage, and, most serendipitously, found Amy— the one being who would illuminate his path with hope and understanding, helping find light in the darkness, metaphorically and literally. Maybe the waves
were not so bad after all.
“Good morning Mr Matthew”
His trail of thoughts was abruptly truncated by the euphonious melody of Amy’s voice. Smiling in the direction of where he thought Amy was standing, he wondered what she actually looked like, and hoped his medication would work briskly so that he could finally see his saviour.
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