Walking by memory may be your only guide when your vision has been impaired.
I never considered stopping and taking inventory of how precious my eyesight was until it slipped away. I believed I had more time to enjoy the breathtaking scenery around me—but I came to understand, only too late, that my time with sight was fleeting. Then, I concluded that I took my sight for granted and feared I might never get it back again.
Something so precious was slipping away from me and clouding my way forward. The well-known path was easy when I could see it, but now, this same path was filled with darkness and fear of the obstacles I no longer could see. But I couldn’t let that detour me, so with each step on that familiar path, a sense of peace washed over me, like a gentle embrace from the memories that guided me.
The memories of my sight transformed the terrain into a familiar landscape, giving me the ability to navigate around the obstacles. As I traveled this well-known path, my memories would be the only thing I could use to guide me. I know I will have to rely on them to go forward.
Though I can no longer walk by sight, I have learned to navigate through the landscape of my memories. This gift of memory remains a guiding light, illuminating my path even in the darkness.
Copyright ©️2025 Charlene L. Morris. All Rights Reserved
Spoken Thoughts 
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