Spirit Magazine - July 2014 - (Page 64)

whom I'd met during our senior year in college. We struck up a friendship that seemed like it could blossom into something more, but David had a serious girlfriend at the time. He confessed that he had strong feelings for me, but he wasn't at liberty to explore them. So we parted ways and, shortly thereafter, graduated. It didn't take long for him to become the one who got away, the face I'd think of late at night when I was alone-and sometimes even when I wasn't. When our paths crossed again in New York about a year after graduation and he explained that he'd broken up with his girlfriend, it felt like an act of divine intervention. Within a few months, he'd gotten my name tattooed on his arm: six jet-black letters rising from his pale skin. After a year, on bended knee in the middle of the Smoky Mountains, he asked me to marry him. I didn't have a moment's hesitation. My eyes might be failing, but I recognized the love of my life when he was standing in front of me. 5. Conquer Hollywood I loved my hometown profoundly, as if it were a living, breathing person. But I wondered what life was like outside of New York, and it seemed a little cowardly that I'd never spent any significant amount of time beyond the tristate area. So when I got the chance at 25 to go to Los Angeles as part of a theater festival, I decided to make it more than just a visit. I was an actor, after all, and in L.A. the streets were paved with TV pilots. David and I quit our day jobs as long-term temps at an investment bank, packed up our stuff, and ventured west. I was bowled over by California's beauty. Rolling, golden hills that looked like sleeping lions. Jagged cliffs with precipitous drops to the churning, foaming Pacific Ocean. Even the light was different, and the smells. Every time I walked out my front door and inhaled the scent of jasmine, I stopped to marvel. In New York, I encountered plenty of smells, but few of them were pleasant. Sniffing jasmine blossoms made me feel like a Disney princess. I didn't know how to drive, but David taught me, which was both a personal triumph and a recipe for disaster. It's hard to ensure safety when you can only see objects right in front of you. Driving wasn't the only part of life in L.A. that was draining and stressful. It became more difficult to make it through auditions and rehearsals without revealing what was a growing handicap. 64 SPIRIT JULY 2014 In the six years since my diagnosis, I'd become totally night-blind, so navigating dark film sets and backstage areas was now nearly impossible. Even networking was difficult; in the dim landscape of parties and bars and shows, I struggled to discern the face of my conversation partner, making it difficult to remember the person later. My field of vision had shrunk, little by little, so that my days were riddled with minor collisions as I bumped into objects that were too low, too high, or too much to the side to be in focus. There were brushes with coffee tables, tree branches, people crossing my path. I missed stairs, knocked over glasses, and fumbled my lines. They were all small mistakes, short-lived moments of lost composure, but so constant that they exhausted and demoralized me. I loved acting, but I longed for a career where I felt at ease. 6. See My Children A few months after David and I were married, I discovered I was pregnant. This was far and away the best news I ever received in my 27 years of life; the word "overjoyed" didn't begin to sum it up. The baby I dreamt of was finally on his way, and I'd be able to see his face. It had been eight years. Most of my vision loss was peripheral, with some acuity problems thrown in thanks to the cataracts that had begun to form, which made everything blurry. Color blindness was beginning to set in, making matching outfits a thing of the past. Depth perception had become a bit of an issue too, so I needed to exercise more caution on stairs. Because of this, I was nervous about taking on the huge responsibility of motherhood. It was hard enough for women with eagle eyes. As a woman who was steadily becoming more blind, how would I fare? Occasionally, I was seized by worry about the accidents that could result from my failing eyes. What if I tripped on a wet wipe and face-planted while holding the baby? What if I measured the Tylenol incorrectly? But I could let go of the great, gripping fear I'd harbored since that day in the doctor's office- that when my baby was born, I wouldn't be able to see him. When my son made his entrance, just after midnight on Thanksgiving night, I soaked in so many sights: his strong chin, bee-stung eyes, the complex curvature of his ear, so tiny it made my heart ache with tenderness. Two years later I saw my daughter for the first time, a ruddy, round-cheeked newborn sporting

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Spirit Magazine - July 2014

Spirit Magazine - July 2014
Contents
Gary’s Greeting
Gary’s Greeting en Español
Star of the Month
Freedom Story
From the Editor
Your Words
Your Pictures
Media Center
Eat Drink Sleep
Bite into bread salad
Pour a patriotic drink
Eat like an astronaut
Numbers
Call cars by name
Analyze dating data
Business
Know your market(ing)
Shop for couture
As the Lights Go Down
As the Lights Go Down
One-Hit Wonders
One-Hit Wonders
Sightsee in St. Louis
Your Adventure In St. Louis
Your Adventure In St. Louis
Promotional Series: Spirit of Maryland
Promotional Series: Spirit of Nevada
Promotional Series: Focus on Health
Calendar
Turn a buck into a bronco
Fun!
Spotlight
Community Outreach
Products & Services
Flight Service
Terminal Maps
Information
Rapid Rewards and A+ Rewards Partners
Route Map
The “If” List
Joke with Allison Janney

Spirit Magazine - July 2014