Tag: life

My dad’s near-death experience

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

This is a sketch I did of my dad when I was probably in my teens, meaning he was in his forties. For those that remember him, they know the sketch is not perfect but recognizable. It was from a church directory photo with my mom. I sketched her picture also and gave the framed sketches to them as part of their Christmas presents that year.

Dad was a hard-working, dedicated Christian. He wasn’t perfect (none of us is perfect), but he was a good man. He was a faithful husband, a loving father, and a daily Bible reader.

He also had strong opinions. And one of those opinions was he thought people who reported near-death experiences were making it up. Or at least just reporting a dream.

He passed away on February 12, 2012, but the dying process began weeks before that. On Christmas 2011, he fell, slipped into unconsciousness, and ended up in the hospital, where he received a blood transfusion that brought him back to consciousness.

That’s when he told me his dream or vision or whatever you want to call it. I’m going to write this as though he’s telling it, although I know the words are not exact.

“Everything was quiet,” he said. “There was a man in front of me who looked like he didn’t have any clothes on but he did have clothes on.” I questioned him about this until I figured out the man was covered in something like a wet suit, everything fitting tightly but covering all skin. “He motioned to me and turned around and we started flying through a tunnel.” He held out his arms like Superman. “I wasn’t touching anything. We got to a room where there were people sitting in chairs. Nobody was talking. The man turned to me and told me it wasn’t time yet, that I had to go back.”

When Dad was telling this story, he had to pause several times because he was so weak, but you get the idea.

Then began episodes of him seeing people in his room who weren’t there. He talked to my mom’s brother, my uncle, who had passed away earlier. He laughed at things he was seeing that no one else could see. He was disoriented and would try to get out of his bed, saying he needed to go home, even though he was at home and in his own room. He was in a hospital bed since breaking his hip over a year earlier, so maybe that’s why he thought he was in a hospital.

A few weeks later, he lost consciousness again. Back to the hospital. Another blood transfusion.

The doctor talked to us about hospice care, and we agreed. When I read the literature they gave us, I read about the tunnel experiences, which I had never heard of. Dad had many of the episodes described.

I asked Dad one day how he felt during the tunnel experience. “I wasn’t touching anything,” he said. “No,” I said. “I mean, how did you feel emotionally?” His voice was raspy when he answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “I felt peace. Everything was peaceful.”

Since Dad’s death, we’ve been at the bedsides of my mother-in-law and father-in-law as they passed peacefully. My mom was the last one to pass away, and her experience was quite different. She fought death every step of the way, and it wasn’t until she went into an unconscious state that she stopped struggling.

I know this is a morbid topic to most, and I know other experiences with their loved ones are as varied as the people themselves. But I always think of this as the anniversary of Dad’s death approaches, and I remember his words. “I felt peace.”

Peace. I take comfort in that.

Lessons Learned from a Friend

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

I wish I had a better picture of him, but for some reason I don’t. I wish I had a picture that shows the twinkle in his eyes, his contagious smile, even a picture that depicts his famous bear hugs.

This Thursday, family and friends will honor Gregg and his life, sharing their memories, funny stories, and no doubt some serious ones. I’m sure there will be many tears. There already has been.

A few things about him that make him exceptional, especially in the world in which we live. He married his high school sweetheart after he graduated from college, and they recently celebrated 44 years of marriage. There was no doubt he adored her. He had a way with words and was not afraid to use them to honor the people he loved. He was the father of three children and three grandchildren. He was a dedicated employee, working more hours than he should to help the company succeed.

He loved his adopted hometown, and he enjoyed nothing more (other than time with family) than being with his classmates and friends he made growing up here. At class reunions, I always noticed how he talked to every classmate there, whether they had been good friends or not, and how he asked questions about their lives and truly listened.

He and Barry were high school friends, and Barry was a groomsman in his wedding. He and his wife moved away, and the two in pre-email and pre-cell phone days lost touch. But when they moved back to Tennessee just a little over a couple of hours away, they reconnected, and so began years of activities. Weekend trips to the Smokies, week-long trips to the beach, multiple get-togethers with our unit of four couples at different houses. Card games, trivia nights, putt-putt competitions, even an escape room adventure–we enjoyed our time together.

A former DJ at a radio station, he loved music, and I can only imagine how long his playlist is. He loved sports and was a loyal Cardinals baseball fan, unlike Barry who has been a Pirates fan since his Little League days. But they never argued about their difference in loyalty.

He was the type of guy who, if he hadn’t seen you in a while, would give you a big hug and hug you again when he left, as did his wife. He (and she) were always the first to tell us “Love you guys.” He told his friends how much he appreciated them, even in text messages.

Like any of us, Gregg was not a perfect person, and he wouldn’t want us to think he was. He could get worked up about politics at times, and maybe some other things, but normally he was an even-keeled, kind man who was always ready to laugh, to share a good memory, to praise others for the good things happening in their lives.

So what are the lessons learned from our decades-long friendship? We don’t all have his outgoing personality or ability to be open in our affection for others. But we can all smile, laugh, be kind, be good listeners, and value our friends and family. We can all be the kind of people that when it’s our time to leave this earth, people will miss us, say kind things about us (and mean it), and maybe say they learned a few things from us.

His passing was sudden, so it is taking us a while to accept. It is surreal. But how comforting it is to know the last thing he said to us the Thursday before he passed away was that he loved us, and we told him the same. He meant it, I know.

And so did we.

Retirement: the good…and bad

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

Ah, retirement. It’s what we dream about when we’re burned out with our jobs or feeling stuck or exhausted from the hectic pace of life. We envision how wonderful life will be when we are not controlled by the clock or obligations. The freedom to travel, to sleep late, to do what we want to do when we want to do it. What could be better?

That was how I felt when the above picture was taken at The Outer Banks of North Carolina in 2018. I had retired a week earlier, but the reality of my new situation had not yet sunk in. As a teacher, I was used to summers off, so I knew I wouldn’t realize I was retired until school started back in August.

It was a wonderful feeling to be sitting out by our pool on the first day of school. I thought of my teacher friends and how that first day was affecting them. I remembered my own experiences and was glad those days were over for me. I had signed up to be a substitute at the school where I taught, a perfect set-up for me. I could sub if and when I wanted. I had the freedom to choose.

But the newness of retirement wore off. True, I had freedom, but almost all my friends were still working, so I had no one to do things with. My husband was still working, and he was too tired at night to go anywhere, so life became a routine of…boredom. My vision loss soon declined to the point I could no longer sub, which made it worse, but even if I’d had the vision to keep substituting, I think I would have felt the same.

I know plenty of people who love retirement, and maybe I would also if I could drive and go and do things on my own. Yet I know my personality. I’m high energy, very sociable, and goal-driven.

Six years have passed, and my feelings about retirement haven’t changed. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t miss the 5:30 A.M. alarm, the rushing to get ready, the days so full I’m exhausted at night. I enjoy taking my time to drink coffee, listen to a podcast, listen to a devotional, and get my inner self strengthened before beginning my day. I’m in two book clubs, three civic clubs, and the president of our local retired teachers association. I volunteer for activities at our church.

But there are still many hours to fill each week. TV, especially daytime TV, gets boring. Audiobooks are great–for a while. My hobbies–sketching, acrylic painting, doing crosswords with the use of a assistive technology, playing solitaire with cards for the visually impaired, cooking–sound like a lot, but even those things can get to be more of a chore than a pleasure because I can do them whenever I’d like.

When you retire, you lose something. You no longer have the weekends to look forward to, so every day blends into the next. You miss out on what’s going on in your community because you are not around people on a regular basis. If the weather is bad and you’re stuck at home…well, it gets boring.

My advice to anyone contemplating retirement is to know your personality. If you’re ambitious, goal-driven, and all those qualities I’ve described about myself, you might want to ease into it. See if your employer will allow you to work part-time (ideal for me, if I could) or retire from this job and find a fun part-time job. I used to dream of moving away from our town and living in a city so I could work somewhere fun. Something simple like being a docent in a museum or selling tickets at a place like Graceland or the Country Music Hall of Fame or relocating to the Smoky Mountains and working in one of the many tourist attractions there.

But family relationships and other circumstances prevent those “fun” jobs, so that is why I’m writing again. I’d prefer to have an office to go to where other people are working to do my writing. An ideal work schedule for me would be 9:00 to 3:00 three days a week. Anyone know of a job like that for a legally blind gal? Ha ha!

Like I said, these are just my thoughts. There are plenty of people who love, love, love retirement. Maybe I would if not for my vision issues.

I often say I’m an odd duck. I don’t love chocolate, pizza, or hamburgers. I prefer salads and fruit and yogurt and vegetables. I force myself to eat fish and chicken because of the protein. I enjoy walking several miles most days of the week. Yes, that’s right, I ENJOY walking. I enjoy exercise videos and swimming and would love to roller skate if not for my age and would definitely love to ride horses again.

So if you’re an odd duck like me, you might want to rethink your retirement plants. Just food for thought!

Blind, but I’m back!!!

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

After falling into depths of depression because of my vision loss and giving up writing in any form, I have managed to pull myself out of the canyon of self-pity and despair to connect once again with what I most love to do.

Write.

Write anything. Fiction, non-fiction, blog, essays, you name it. I love to write.

My curiosity about the world and other people prompt me to think others are as interested in those things as I am, and this blog is so random in topics, I’m not likely to attract a huge following. I considered creating a new site with a specific target audience, but I decided I would keep things the way they are. I’m going to write about what interests me, about things in my life, and about the world in which I live.

What does that mean exactly?

It means I’ll write about living life as a legally blind person. I’ll write about interesting people and places. I’ll write about observations. I’ll write about activities.

You know, random stuff. And maybe I’ll entertain, inspire, and inform along the way.

You may be wondering about how I’m writing this as a legally blind person, but I have some functional vision that allows me to use assistive technology to work on the computer. I’ve learned a great deal in the past two years, and I like to think I’m wiser. Older, for sure, but hopefully wiser as well.

If you’re reading my blog for the first time, I invite you to scroll through my previous posts to see if there are any topics of interest to you. I invite you to comment and share your own thoughts and ideas. Most of all, I invite you to be a part of my life as I know it.

I’ll have an announcement soon about a writing project, but until my next blog post, thank you for stopping by!