“With all due respect honey, you really should slow down,” my husband says after we nearly collide with a well-dressed gentleman in a black suit cutting across our path. I’m pushing our eighteen month old in her new trike across the concourse of our local train station. It’s a place I am very familiar with. Although recently, what little vision I have seems to be gently but painfully fading from existence. My life feels like it is slipping into shadow. I love the trike with its extendible handle and small stature. It’s so much easier for me to use than the pram as it allows me to more obviously hold my cane. I worry that sometimes the comparative largeness of the pram frame might leave the cane almost invisible, making me feel vulnerable.
 Not that I’m willing to admit this aloud, because what if my husband thinks I’m not coping? Will he continue to let me push those boundaries of blind […]