Longtime BVA Mid-Atlantic Regional Group (Richmond Chapter) member and National Headquarters friend Herb Patterson of Sandston, Virginia, submitted a few thoughts to his fellow veterans during this past week leading up to Memorial Day. The message reflects Herb’s gratitude for blessings that typically go unacknowledged but which he highly values. With his permission, we are reprinting his thoughts here:     

Another lovely day in the dark. 

It is Wednesday, coming up to the end of May. The guy on television in the know says it will be a partially cloudy day and warm. Feels a little cool this morning outside and, come to think of it, inside also. 

Like every day, I will enjoy whatever confronts me. I will listen to music from my Alexa, check my computer for any important info, listen to a book, sit with my dog, Ruby, doing whatever comes my way.  A good life. 

I will not see the colors, objects, people, animals, planes flying over, and cars and trucks going up and down the street. I will see the off-white and black in my eyes.  I will hear the birds singing, the bees flying around, the airplanes moving overhead, the traffic passing, the dogs barking, the lawn mowers chugging, and the distant sirens and train whistling. Life is good. 

Today my housekeeper (friend) will be here, and I will stay out of her way. Tomorrow I will go to lunch with several dear friends. Friday I will go to the National Cemetery with the American Legion group and be with them as they put the American Flag on each grave. Memorial Day is coming, and I will enjoy that day with family—and some good food. Life is good. 

Being blind is not so bad for me, at least now. I have learned to live without seeing. I can hear, touch, feel, and talk like everyone else. I have my family and lots of friends. I was able to see years ago. I remember what I saw, so I can still use my imagination. I can feel the sun on my face, the rain on my body, and the wind rushing by. 

Most of all, there is the love of friends and love of life. I am a social hugger, and it is good to find others who are not concerned about returning the hugs. Life is good. 

I enjoy working with the many devices available to assist blind persons—screen readers on computers, scanners that read documents to me, mobile phones that talk back for me, book readers, assistive apps for the phones and computers, and the many devices designed for low vision persons. I use a white cane to get around along with the help of friends. I have received great support from local VA services for the blind and low vision. Life is good. 

I am just like you, a human being, I just cannot see anything.  I can laugh, smile, cry, be happy or sad, and love. Sometimes I may get turned around and seem lost, I may bump into things hitting my head, arms or legs, I may fall down, but I get back up ready to go again. I cannot drive a car, a lawn mower, bicycle, or most times walk a straight line, and that’s okay with me.  

If you drive the car, I will ride. If you have a bike for two, I will ride in back and pedal. If you put me in the boat, I will fish. If you put me on the horse, I will do my best to stay on and ride. Life is good. 

Why did I write this? I’m not sure, but I do want you to know that I am just like you. I just can’t see you. 

From Herb, the old blind guy. Thank you for being a friend, for understanding, and for letting me be me. Life is good!