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hear it click and hold everything in place. We also guided him to open the umbrella away from others. When the umbrella had successfully sprung forth, we began singing, “Rain, rain go away, come again another day,” to which Desi joined in. He chimed in that he had learned this song in preschool.We systematically closed the umbrella after the singing was complete, and again it was Desi’s turn to grab another item. He removed my black bristled hairbrush and said, “I know what this is! My mom uses one like this.” He moved from Ted, then to me to pull it through portions of our hair.Next, the Cypriot donkey found freedom out of the pillowcase. Desi laughed, as he felt the leathery skin on the donkey’s body and the saddlebag holding some logs. When I asked Desi if he knew what a donkey or burro sounded like, he shook his head no. Then Ted, as if on cue, set forth an amusing bray. He told Desi about his experiences with donkeys carrying grapes from the vineyard in Cyprus. Desi noted that donkeys seemed similar to horses and asked Ted to repeat the animal sounds.Next, the flashlight. It was white and lightweight, and we instructed Desi to press multiple buttons for a solid light, a flashing white light, or a flashing red light. We explained to him the different purposes for each. He enjoyed moving into different corners of the house to see what he could see. I commented, “Now you are looking like a detective.”For the bird, Desi had seen this bluebird toy before and knew that if he pressed along the sides of the bird, chirps would emerge. He pressed it repeatedly to hear the mechanical chirps. He laughed with joy and set the bird next to the donkey. I remarked to Desi that this particular blue bird lived in faraway lands and asked him whether or not he listened to birds chirping at his house or his grandma’s house, to which he excitedly answered yes. I shared that when I hear birds when I am in the hot tub or sitting on the green bench, they make me feel calm and at peace.Next came the stainless-steel whisk with a black rubber handle. Immediately, Desi knew what this was used for. Initially, we took the whisk into the kitchen and removed a stainless-steel bowl from the drawer to which Desi added the whisk and rotated it around in a circular motion, listening to its tinny sounds in the empty bowl. He remarked that he had helped his grandmother Maria, whisk eggs in prep for making pancakes. I added a remark that you can add many things for a whisk mixture to make it smooth and praised his experience in the kitchen as a cook’s helper.The green, foldable silicone trivet leaped out and Desi was unable to identify this object. He squeezed it in his small hands and asked, “What’s this?” I informed him that it was something called a trivet, and explained the protective benefit of a trivet for objects that are extremely hot or cold. We then moved to the kitchen and demonstrated its use by placing a pitcher filled with ice-cold water on top of the trivet.We watched as moisture formed on the outside of the glass and I moved Desi’s hands along the inner rim to feel the moisture gathering and told him that the trivet protected the counter from getting wet. He touched it once more, almost longingly, as if not wanting to part from the trivet.Desi felt for the squarish hooked tape measure and removed it. I showed him how the tape measure worked and initially, we measured the coffee table for length and width

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, and he read the corresponding numbers to me. Noting that Desi wanted to use this object more, I suggested he go outside to the front stairs, which he did readily. My husband joined him at the top of the stairs (14 in all) and asked Desi to hold the tape measure by the clip and Ted proceeded down the stairs to the bottom, for a total number of 162 inches.Desi loved that number since it was larger than anything in the house. Desi moved deftly through all the stairs and then picked up our topiary dog named Casey and moved him to the top of the stairs for a while. He became serious as he moved the 5 lb. dog up to the top of the landing since it was more to keep track of than when empty-handed. We clapped as we reached the top, knowing that Casey could remain there for a while. For a few minutes, Desi scampered around on the landing, and sat on the green wooden bench, but then asked to return inside for the rest of the memory game.Next, Desi discovered the green slice of soap with yellow duckies scattered throughout. He opened the cellophane and smelled its sea-like and citrus smell. Desi remarked that he did not take baths with this kind of soap at home. As we talked about bath time, I felt with clarity that Desi and his brother really enjoyed the bathing process. Desi lit up when he said, “My favorite part is getting out of the tub and being wrapped in a big soft towel by my mom or dad. I like to cuddle that way before bed.” He asked if he could take it home for his brother Reza to use in their baths, to which we responded, of course.Another object was a taupe-colored, medium size handbag with two denim straps that I used for casual attire. Desi loved this because it had a zipper to move back and forth, and then proceeded to place any small objects into its interior– the tape measure, the soap, the trivet, the bird, and the flashlight. He struggled to close the bulging purse slipped it over his shoulder and headed to the front door, chiming “I’m going on a trip!”Then, Desi freed the last article — a large, silicone-lined oven mitt that is particularly useful for the blind because it is secure on your hands and is nonslip. My husband took Desi into the kitchen, opened the cold oven door, and first showed Desi how the oven mitt was positioned in his hand. He slid the oven rack out and placed a frying pan in the oven as if it were hot. He showed Desi how the mitt would protect his hand as he pulled the pan from the oven. Desi giggled as Ted put the mitt on his hand, as it looked gigantic in his tiny grip. On Ted, the mitt fits snugly. Ted also showed him how the oven racks slid back and forth when moved by the mitt.Our entire exploration process lasted more than an hour including all our spontaneous activities and instructions. We prepared to move onto a playground and early dinner activity with our adult daughter, Eleni, also accompanying us. However, before we left, Desi, with a thoughtful gaze and hopeful smile, begged, “Aunt Kathy, can we play this explorer game every time I come here?” I remarked, “Yes we can! As often as you like.”Today’s playful exploration with Desi provided me with confidence and delight about my abilities rather than my deficits in play with young children. Later that night, after Desi returned to his parents in San Leandro, and I readied for bed, I reminisced about the day. Warm tears formed on my face, a blend of joy for the day with Desi and relief that I could still play.</article></body>

How A Blind Woman Explores Fun and Play with her Nephew

Bridging the gap between a 5-year-old and 72-year-old

With my progressive vision loss, I struggled to imagine how I could play with my five-year-old great-nephew Desi, who was coming to spend the day with us. When Desi arrived, he scampered down the fourteen stairs to our front door and exclaimed, “I’m here!” His dad, Matt, went off to show my husband how to attach the booster seat to the rear seat belts of the car.

Desi and I moved into the living room and one of the first remarks he made to me was, “Your eyes are blind, right?”

I asked, “What do you think that means, Desi?”

To which he replied, “Your eyes can’t see.”

I personalized it a little more by adding, “You are right in front of me, and even though I know who you are, I can’t see your hair color or the clothes you are wearing.”

He added, thoughtfully, “Oh!”

Immediately, he sank into the rust-colored swivel chair and begged to be turned around. Then, he asked if he could have a stick of string cheese from the kitchen and gobbled it up. By this time, Matt had hugged Desi goodbye and requested that he obey all of Aunt Kathy and Uncle Ted’s instructions.

In planning for Desi’s arrival, I pondered, What can I do as a blind woman to entertain him? An idea sprang forth. I hatched the idea that I would systematically place a medley of objects from around the house into a pillowcase, and then have Desi retrieve and try to identify them. I went around the house, thinking both of objects that could teach and/or entertain. I threw in my collapsible white cane, a twittering stuffed blue bird, a blue travel umbrella, a silicone trivet, a straw purse with blue handles, a flashlight, a stuffed donkey from Cyprus, a whisk, a bar of handmade soap with rubber duckies on it, my brush, a tape measure, and an oven mitt.

I called it the Remember Me or Explorer game. I instructed Desi to close his eyes and remove one item at a time from the pillowcase. Desi adhered to those directions well, but at times I reminded him that upon the object’s retrieval, he could open his eyes. The first item he took out was my cane. After explaining that this is what blind people use to help them with their walking and sensing of the environment, Desi asked me to show him how it worked.

The process of my opening of all four segments of the cane into one workable stick fascinated him. I showed him on the hardwood floor how I moved the cane back and forth with my strides. In reality, I do not use this cane often because I find it more expedient and quicker to use my husband as a sighted guide and walk with him to my left, grasping his right upper arm.

I left the cane open and laid it safely along the perimeter so Desi would not trip on it, and asked him to choose another item, the next being the folding umbrella. I cautioned him with some generalities about the use of umbrellas primarily outside, rather than in, but that we would explore it safely inside the house.

Both my husband and I navigated Desi to the button that sprang the umbrella open and guided his fingers to the area to hear it click and hold everything in place. We also guided him to open the umbrella away from others. When the umbrella had successfully sprung forth, we began singing, “Rain, rain go away, come again another day,” to which Desi joined in. He chimed in that he had learned this song in preschool.

We systematically closed the umbrella after the singing was complete, and again it was Desi’s turn to grab another item. He removed my black bristled hairbrush and said, “I know what this is! My mom uses one like this.” He moved from Ted, then to me to pull it through portions of our hair.

Next, the Cypriot donkey found freedom out of the pillowcase. Desi laughed, as he felt the leathery skin on the donkey’s body and the saddlebag holding some logs. When I asked Desi if he knew what a donkey or burro sounded like, he shook his head no. Then Ted, as if on cue, set forth an amusing bray. He told Desi about his experiences with donkeys carrying grapes from the vineyard in Cyprus. Desi noted that donkeys seemed similar to horses and asked Ted to repeat the animal sounds.

Next, the flashlight. It was white and lightweight, and we instructed Desi to press multiple buttons for a solid light, a flashing white light, or a flashing red light. We explained to him the different purposes for each. He enjoyed moving into different corners of the house to see what he could see. I commented, “Now you are looking like a detective.”

For the bird, Desi had seen this bluebird toy before and knew that if he pressed along the sides of the bird, chirps would emerge. He pressed it repeatedly to hear the mechanical chirps. He laughed with joy and set the bird next to the donkey. I remarked to Desi that this particular blue bird lived in faraway lands and asked him whether or not he listened to birds chirping at his house or his grandma’s house, to which he excitedly answered yes. I shared that when I hear birds when I am in the hot tub or sitting on the green bench, they make me feel calm and at peace.

Next came the stainless-steel whisk with a black rubber handle. Immediately, Desi knew what this was used for. Initially, we took the whisk into the kitchen and removed a stainless-steel bowl from the drawer to which Desi added the whisk and rotated it around in a circular motion, listening to its tinny sounds in the empty bowl. He remarked that he had helped his grandmother Maria, whisk eggs in prep for making pancakes. I added a remark that you can add many things for a whisk mixture to make it smooth and praised his experience in the kitchen as a cook’s helper.

The green, foldable silicone trivet leaped out and Desi was unable to identify this object. He squeezed it in his small hands and asked, “What’s this?” I informed him that it was something called a trivet, and explained the protective benefit of a trivet for objects that are extremely hot or cold. We then moved to the kitchen and demonstrated its use by placing a pitcher filled with ice-cold water on top of the trivet.

We watched as moisture formed on the outside of the glass and I moved Desi’s hands along the inner rim to feel the moisture gathering and told him that the trivet protected the counter from getting wet. He touched it once more, almost longingly, as if not wanting to part from the trivet.

Desi felt for the squarish hooked tape measure and removed it. I showed him how the tape measure worked and initially, we measured the coffee table for length and width, and he read the corresponding numbers to me. Noting that Desi wanted to use this object more, I suggested he go outside to the front stairs, which he did readily. My husband joined him at the top of the stairs (14 in all) and asked Desi to hold the tape measure by the clip and Ted proceeded down the stairs to the bottom, for a total number of 162 inches.

Desi loved that number since it was larger than anything in the house. Desi moved deftly through all the stairs and then picked up our topiary dog named Casey and moved him to the top of the stairs for a while. He became serious as he moved the 5 lb. dog up to the top of the landing since it was more to keep track of than when empty-handed. We clapped as we reached the top, knowing that Casey could remain there for a while. For a few minutes, Desi scampered around on the landing, and sat on the green wooden bench, but then asked to return inside for the rest of the memory game.

Next, Desi discovered the green slice of soap with yellow duckies scattered throughout. He opened the cellophane and smelled its sea-like and citrus smell. Desi remarked that he did not take baths with this kind of soap at home. As we talked about bath time, I felt with clarity that Desi and his brother really enjoyed the bathing process. Desi lit up when he said, “My favorite part is getting out of the tub and being wrapped in a big soft towel by my mom or dad. I like to cuddle that way before bed.” He asked if he could take it home for his brother Reza to use in their baths, to which we responded, of course.

Another object was a taupe-colored, medium size handbag with two denim straps that I used for casual attire. Desi loved this because it had a zipper to move back and forth, and then proceeded to place any small objects into its interior– the tape measure, the soap, the trivet, the bird, and the flashlight. He struggled to close the bulging purse slipped it over his shoulder and headed to the front door, chiming “I’m going on a trip!”

Then, Desi freed the last article — a large, silicone-lined oven mitt that is particularly useful for the blind because it is secure on your hands and is nonslip. My husband took Desi into the kitchen, opened the cold oven door, and first showed Desi how the oven mitt was positioned in his hand. He slid the oven rack out and placed a frying pan in the oven as if it were hot. He showed Desi how the mitt would protect his hand as he pulled the pan from the oven. Desi giggled as Ted put the mitt on his hand, as it looked gigantic in his tiny grip. On Ted, the mitt fits snugly. Ted also showed him how the oven racks slid back and forth when moved by the mitt.

Our entire exploration process lasted more than an hour including all our spontaneous activities and instructions. We prepared to move onto a playground and early dinner activity with our adult daughter, Eleni, also accompanying us. However, before we left, Desi, with a thoughtful gaze and hopeful smile, begged, “Aunt Kathy, can we play this explorer game every time I come here?” I remarked, “Yes we can! As often as you like.”

Today’s playful exploration with Desi provided me with confidence and delight about my abilities rather than my deficits in play with young children. Later that night, after Desi returned to his parents in San Leandro, and I readied for bed, I reminisced about the day. Warm tears formed on my face, a blend of joy for the day with Desi and relief that I could still play.