(AUDIO) feeling beyond sight

Recorded this audio at a busy coffeehouse this morning.

---

I lost my right eye in 1982 a day before Easter when I was eight-years-old

it was Holy Saturday for everyone else;

for me it became

my holey-eyeterday

~ you see what happened was

there was this stick that was just minding its own business being a pretend wand in the hands of a pretend wizard named David

and I ran right

into it

pupil first

the last thing I

remember seeing

with my right eye

was David's face

as he was casting a spell

to kill an invisible orc

and then came

the indescribable pain

of my exploding lens

I passed out

when I woke up about five minutes later I was l sitting in my dad's chair that he spent two hours a night reading mystery novels in

I knew I must

have been in

bad shape if

they were letting

me sit in that chair

I could only open my

left eye

my right eye was sewn shut

with agony

my dad was talking to

me but I couldn't

quite hear what he was saying

the only thing I could focus on

was the sound of my mom

crying behind him

"Open you eye. Let me look,"

my dad said with hands on my face

I remember his fingers were covered in soil

he must have been gardening

when he got the news that I

had been struck by some dark magic

I tried to open my eye

~ I couldn't.

There was a monster of bark and wood under my eyelid devouring my sight one slow cruel chew at a time

with a bit of force

my dad helped me pry

my eye open for a fat second

and I watched with my

left eye how his face

turned grey

"shit..." he said

the light poured into my

right eye like lava

my right eye became fire

~ and I passed out again

the next thing I remember

I was laying in the back

of my parent's white Zephyr

as they raced me to the hospital

fresh smell of pesticide

my dad had, in fact,

been gardening

poor dad

one minute he was planting carrots at his garden downtown

the next he was watching his son

through his rearview mirror

convulse in the back of his car

thus is the life of a parent

from turnips to tragedy

in a heartbeat

My head in my moms lap

her hands on my forehead

shaking

my mom loved me

but she was never really

that physically affectionate

so the feel of her hands on my head was like a comet

rare

comforting

celestial

my nose started bleeding

and I passed out again

I came to a day later wearing a eye patch the size of Panama

it was Easter morning

but there would be no resurrection

for my sight

the tomb of my vision still

had a stone in front of it

I was devastated ~ destroyed -despondent

a man in a white coat came in with a brown clipboard

and told me even though

I had endured a

six hour surgery

that my right eye was

destroyed

"like The Death Star?"

I asked

"I don't know what that is" the doctor said

I hated him for that answer

how could somebody

of science and medicine

not know what The Death Star is?

It was in that

exact moment that

I learned to never

trust a person who

was big on clipboards

but little on pop culture

since that day

before Easter

~ when I was eight

~ when I lost my right eye

the only thing I can see are the

things that are to the left of me

~ and the things that are left of me

~and the people that have left me

~ and what little time I have left

I usually couldn’t see anything

right in front of me

now, 38 years later

I am left with grey hair

~and parents who left me for the great beyond

~ and a right eye that I am left with that aches every time it rains

~ and I was left with the memories

of that big stick

~and of David's face

~and that red chair with my dad

~and that car ride with my mom

~and that doctor

~and everything that came after

all of the good times

~and all of the bad

but here is the biggest

plot twist of it all… well, two plot twists really:

1) my “good” eye is beginning to fade

apparently putting all of the strain on a single eye to take in all of the wonder of the world isn’t really all that good for it

and (more concerning)

2) my memories are starting to drift

away

away

away

a....w...a...y from me

the details of the past are starting to swirl and fade and mist and morph

I'm losing my memories

which is terrifying for a guy who has spent most of his life looking backwards

for a man with one eye the present has always been my blind spot

~ and now so is the past

I haven't been able to see

what's right in front of me

~ and now I am having a

hard time seeing what's behind

but here nearly 40-years later

~ despite my fading vision

and my melting ice cube brain

I’m filled with hope

because there are other ways to see

the world then with just my eyes

and there are other ways to experience the past then just with my mind

turns out

the less I see

the more beauty

I’m starting to witness

&

the less I can remember about yesterday

the more I’m able to able to enjoy the now

this is why I think I became

a poet

I keep getting swaddled up

by every emotion I come into

contact with

with my fading vision

and loosening memory

all of my senses are now seemingly tied to my heart

it has my ears, eyes, tongue

fingers, nose and brain

my heart is my seeing eye dog

and despite my complaining

it keeps leading me into

wilderness of the human experience

everywhere I go

I’m surrounded by emotion

~ whether it’s mine or someone else’s

I’m like the kid in the movie

“Sixth Sense who sees ghosts

but instead of seeing phantoms

I am visited by feelings

they seep under my door

they walk through my walls

they climb down my chimney

it’s relentless

I may not be able to see

or remember anything very well

any more

but I can sure feel

emotions follow me

everywhere I go

a child laughing next to me

in a grocery store line

and suddenly I’m filled

up with the helium of joy

a grieving widow’s tears

always create a stream of my own

~ whether I know her or not

it’s everywhere

the rage

the passion

the joy

the love

the sadness

I can’t escape any

of the emotions of this

world

I feel it all

even if the feelings aren’t mine

sometimes especially they aren’t mine

I can taste it all on my lips

your emotions running

over my skin like bath water

I can sense the world’s emotions

rising up like a bouquet in my nostrils

filling up the dark space in my blindness

overwhelming my cobwebbed memories

I can barely see and I can hardly think

but holy hell

I can sure feel

and now I’ve become a content wanderer who writes a poem about every emotion that I encounter on the road of my life because they are all I have left

many years ago, I woke up in a hospital bed on Easter morning thinking

my sight was gone

~ then my heart opened her blazing eyes for the first time and said:

“Don’t worry ~ I got you.”

- john roedel