I had asked that question with every tick tock of the clock during sleepless nights.
At 31, a hereditary retinal disease robbed my eyesight completely. It pulled a dark curtain of devastation and sorrow into my life and erased any hope I had of being a productive mom to my three, five, and seven-year-old sons.
One day, as self-pity was visiting again, a close friend called. Just checking on you, she said. How are you doing?
I wasn t doing. My life looked dark in every way and the tasks of a blind mom were too much for me. Okay, I guess, I lied.