For twenty years, I wondered what my husband looked like. But when I finally saw his face, I discovered a secret that made me question our entire marriage.
I became blind when I was eight years old.
It happened because of a childhood prank that ended in tragedy.
That afternoon, I was swinging as high as possible in our neighborhood playground, enjoying the sensation of flying. A boy who lived on my street was standing nearby, teasing me.
“Bet you can’t go higher than that!” he teased.
“Watch me!” I shot back.
Suddenly, someone shoved me from behind. My fingers slipped from the chains, sending me flying backward. My head struck a jagged rock beside the playground’s mulch border with a horrible crack.
I remember nothing about the ambulance.
My next memory was waking in a hospital bed, hearing my mother sob while doctors discussed “optic nerve damage” and “severe
