Many years ago, after my mother had retired from teaching school, two friends who taught at Del Mar College engaged her help with a text book they were writing. She offered them advice on the structure and content of the book and helped by simply proofing the manuscript.
The book finished, they acknowledged my mother’s help when they wrote she “sees through shadows.” The acknowledgement comes to mind this morning as I see through shadows in my right eye. Later today, I visit the ophthalmologist to learn whether the early-onset cataract in my right eye is ready for surgery. I hope so, as it’s interfering with my ability to see. I close my right eye and, instantly, my vision becomes clearer. I close my left eye and my vision changes to what I can only liken to looking through a window pane coated with cooking spray over which a super-fine particulate dust has been scattered. I can still see through the right eye, but it’s terribly unclear.
I don’t know if the acknowledgement was a recognition of my mother’s contribution to the book in clarifying the authors’ language or whether it recognized that she helped them along in spite of her cataracts that had not yet been addressed.
In either case, I understand the appreciation, and I share it.
