Making Sense of Love

My hand trembled as I wiped the brush across the canvas. I had started painting again three months ago. Since then I have been doing it every day, just like old times. My mother says my paintings are better than ever. She even travels to my apartment just to see them. I love living on my own, it was a struggle but my mother finally let go enough for me to get my own place. She still takes care of me a lot. Her terms were she pays half the rent, cleans my house and does my grocery shopping. I agreed as long as I could leave my parents' home like any normal person would. Ever since I have lost my sight, my mother has all but bathed me. I knew she meant the best; she just wanted me to be comfortable. I just wanted to be allowed to grow up like everyone else.

I was exhausted from a long day at work. I decided to paint despite it; it was the perfect therapy for me. I had a bit of a hard day. My mom called to tell me that my baby brother had dropped out of high school. He was in his rebellious stage, and she was worried sick about the trouble he was getting himself into. I assured her that he would turn himself around and bounce back, but I had to acknowledge it bothered me. I was upset that he was upsetting our parents like this, especially because we have the very best parents in the world. They gave us all we needed and a lot of what we wanted too. I knew for a fact that he was spoiled, being the only boy and the baby. So today I was painting him, as I imagined him to look now.

It still saddened me a bit that I could not truly see what he looks like. On the other hand, my other senses help me pick up on so much more. I know the scent of all the people I love far better than I would have when I could see. I know their heartbeats, the sound of their laughter, and their mood better than I ever have. In fact, they always tell me that I know them better than anyone else does. So I paint them based of those things, and of course how they used to look. The fundamentals of people’s faces don’t change much, so I have all I need. If I am honest I think I see more than most people do. I sighed and place the brush down knowing that it was complete.

It was days like this I cherish. I wasn’t blind Karen, I was just Karen. I hated when everyone fussed over me and made me feel like a baby or an outsider. I put on my classical music and stripped my clothes to bathe. I felt my way to the bathroom, since I was still getting used to the layout of this place. I plopped myself into the tub and took a long soothing bubble bath. I hummed to myself, playing with the bubbles that were above my hand. My clock told me that it was eleven pm, and tonight was a full moon. I closed my eyes and remembered what a full moon looked like and smiled. It was beautiful.