Reading even with low vision

Puzzling out the morning cryptoquote

My mom had macular degeneration, a disease that destroys straight ahead vision but leaves peripheral vision. She could no longer sew or read or see the faces of people right in front of her, but she always considered herself lucky. She was healthy and able to live in her own home. But without the ability to read, she faced long hours that had the potential to be depressingly empty.

We were lucky to discover the Iowa Department for the Blind and their Talking Books. The Department for the Blind provided the tape player and their librarians quickly learned Mom’s preferences in books and authors – biographies and Louis l’Amour.  From the moment the first tape arrived in the mail, Mom was never without a book to read. Her avid reading resulted in weekly book discussions between us.

Mom’s quest to read didn’t stop there. We took a ‘mini-vacation,’ as Mom called day trips, to the low vision clinic at University of Iowa Hospitals where we found a fantastic reading machine. We bought it on the spot and Mom returned to solving her beloved crossword puzzles and cryptoquote puzzles, and enjoying pictures of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. 

After I published my memoir, I heard from many people asking if it was available in large print. Because of my mother’s experience, it pained me to have to tell them no.  It was only later I learned a large print version of my book could be available through e-books with their variable type size option.  Mom passed away before e-readers were available, but I know she would have leapt to try one.

If you have a friend or relative with low vision who loves to read and hasn’t discovered the services of the Department for the Blind or teaching hospital low vision clinics or the large print features in e-books, I hope you’ll share the news. These services are a true gift.

Mom’s gift of hospitality

Mom & Jane - Masters of Hospitality

Life on our family farm was controlled by three things: the seasons of the year, the cows that had to be milked twice a day, and Mom’s meals that got us all sitting around the table at 7 a.m., noon, and 7 p.m.

Mom could put a meal on the table faster than I can form the idea “meal” in my mind. Her skill was honed during 30 years as a farmer’s wife and once she and Dad retired to town, there was no need to change.

If anyone showed up close to meal time, she’d say, “Oh, stay and eat with us! We’ll put another plate on.” She always meant it. If it wasn’t exactly meal time, it was always time for lunch. Morning, afternoon, before bed. There was always food.

Hired men. The milk tester. Visiting relatives. Neighbors passing by. Mom welcomed them in with a smile and food. Preparing food was her job and her pleasure. Given that Mom had a fruit cellar with floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with vegetables, fruits, and meats she canned herself, if she needed to stretch a meal all she had to do was open another jar.

Mom passed the hospitality gene on to my sisters. My older sister Jane opened her large Victorian home as a bed and breakfast, welcoming strangers who became friends. A long time resident of Arizona, my younger sister Sue hosts a community center welcoming seniors for meals, telling them jokes, and remembering all their names even after meeting them just once.

Sad to say, the food portion of the hospitality gene skipped me. I enjoy guests but preparing meals makes me anxious. I expect I over think it. I can’t shake the feeling that food for guests has to be fancy. I didn’t get that idea from Mom. She was a meat and potatoes cook.

The food was basic but it was always good. And it was always served with Mom’s smile and a sincere, “Oh, stay and eat with us!” She meant it, and that, I think, is the secret to true hospitality.

The new generation mothers

Clo with Abigail and Samantha

When I think 'mom,' my first thought is of my own mother. But today, I'm shining the light toward the newest generation of moms in our family - my nieces and my daughter-in-law. There have been a lifetime of changes in expectations and attitudes … [Continue reading]

My Mom: My Inspiration – My Nag

Mom

"You're a writer. You can write our stories." I can't tell you how many times my mother said that to me. It made no difference to her that I was a business writer, not a creative writer. When she got an idea in her head, she didn't let it go. Turns … [Continue reading]