ABSTRACT
On the Piccadilly train line running from Heathrow Airport to central London, my son and I were being greeted by the conductor’s voice at each stop: “Mind the gap, everyone; mind the gap.” Slightly befuddled by the sleep deprivation from our overnight flight from New York to London, we listened with consternation. We were heading for Kenya on a later evening flight and had decided to spend the day in the city, and we were confused by the announcement. What gap are they referring to? Is he asking us to be mindful of such a gap or do we mind that the gap exists? The answer is obvious after one realizes that there is a significant separation between train and platform at each station, and the phrase exhorts passengers to be careful on exiting the train, so as not to get hurt if they put a foot into the gap. The double meaning for me describes the periodic doubts I have about raising my children as a blind mother. Does the now well-adjusted, sleepy young mansitting next to me on the train because he chose to accompany me on this missionary care trip to Kenya-ever mind the gap caused by his mother’s limitations? Is the same young man mindful that his mother cannot do all that other sighted people can do? The same question goes for my daughter, but I will devote the first part of this chapter to my son’s reactions. Needless to say, it would be best to ask him his opinion on the matter, but I would like to take the opportunity to free-associate and develop my thoughts on the subject first. So I shall begin by discussing our London excursion.
