What
My Father Left behind
by janet perez eckles
At 13 years of age, my parents and I visited an ophthalmologist.
As I sat in the examining chair, my face firmly on the
chin rest and pupils dilated, the doctor looked into
my eyes, shining a bright light.”She did inherit
it," he said with coldness. "You need to be
prepared, there is no cure for this retinal disease.”
My father carried the retinitis pigmentosa gene causing
a deterioration of the retina which, in most cases,
results in blindness. Although my brother's retinas
seemed to be fine, I'd inherited the gene.
Fifteen years after my initial diagnosis, my father
began to lose his eyesight and so did I. He was 55 years
old, but I was only 28. In a matter of two years, we
had both lost our sight completely.
I focused on the effects of my own darkness. My world
crumbled as the black curtain fell, destroying the dreams
my husband and I had for us and for our three little
boys. But when I turned to God for hope and strength,
He responded by opening my eyes to a new revelation.
My father had given me not just the Retinitis pigmentosa
gene, but the example of determination and tenacity
as well. We were all living in Bolivia in 1964 when
he defied the family's opposition to move to America.
He and Mum worked tirelessly to satisfy the requirements
imposed by the U.S. immigration department to enter
the country and establish residency.
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