Open Writing

At the time I knew that in her own way my aunt was trying to tell me something. I suppose it would have been easier for her to be plain speaking and then I probably would have understood what she was talking about, but she was the type of person who didn’t want people to worry, and in the case of “her children” as she called us, although she wanted us to be happy and enjoy our childhood, she didn’t see any harm in us having a little of the education that was at the time not being taught in school.

For example, one day she took me to a blind centre in Morley Street in Bradford and we watched as people “signed” to each other on their hands, and my aunt asked if I would like to try it. I did so and I found that it was not all that hard. My aunt never did anything without a reason, and once a week over a period of a couple of months we attended the blind centre, where I became adept at “signing.” I thoroughly enjoyed my visits and even signed to a deaf, blind, mute lady whose smile lit up the whole room as I talked to her on her hands, but I did have to ask her to slow down when she replied, as in her excitement she was signing far too fast for me.

It was after this short period of time that my aunt explained to me that she was almost blind. She hadn’t told me before as she wanted to “prepare me” for when this event finally took place. You could be forgiven in thinking that this act was a selfish one and that she was looking after her own interests for the time when she became totally blind. But my aunt was not the type of person who would deliberately force someone into a situation that they didn’t want bestowed on them.

She explained to me that when she was informed that she was going blind, she was frightened, not only of being in total darkness, but of losing “her children” by being sent to an institution. She hadn’t wanted my dad (her brother) to know that she was going blind, well not until there was no longer any way that she could carry on bringing up his children. She hadn’t needed to say anymore as I placed my tiny finger to her cheeks to wipe away the tears that were now falling freely.

I hugged her tightly, not wanting to let go, and she brushed my hair gently with her hard skinned fingers. ‘Don’t worry aunt Chrissie,’ I told her, ‘your secret is safe with me, I won’t tell anyone, not even dad.’

It was a few weeks later that she became totally and irreversibly blind, but she and I were prepared for it and I helped her wherever I could, and so did my sister, Jean, who had to be informed as she was the one who helped the most around the house.

With our dad working all day and usually going out for a drink at night, we hardly saw him, so between us we kept the secret from him for well over six months! When he finally found out, at first he was shocked, but when he realised that his sister was able to cope, we all carried on without any changes.

‘Do you see what I mean?’ she asked me one day as I took her to the shops. ‘Your father took it for granted that I would not be able to look after you children, but when he realised that I had been blind for six months and had managed quite well, he was not only surprised, but happy to let things remain as they were.’

She thanked both Jean and I, and stated that without our help, she probably would no longer have been living with us.

The way I saw it was, our Aunt Chrissie had shown us through first hand experience that if a person is determined enough, then virtually nothing is impossible.

Time for a cuppa!

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