Sage, I think I'm replying to your mother and grandmother as much as I am to you. I hope all of you get a chance to read this.

My own mother lost her youngest son to suicide over 20 years ago. She feels she wasn't able to save him and she blames herself even though she wasn't remotely responsible for his choice. He was 21 years old and living two states away. Nobody blames her except herself. Now that I'm going blind she's trying to, I don't know, atone? It's like saving my vision will somehow correct the fact she couldn't save my little brother. Saving kids is what parents do. She's determined to fix my eyesight for psychological reasons I think I understand but can't articulate. She's got to find a cure for my loss of vision. She's obsessed with it. It's like if she can save my eyesight it absolves her of her guilt for her younger son, but if she can't, then it proves she's unfit to be a mother. It's complicated.

My mom is in her late seventies, I'm in my mid fifties.

What my mom fails to understand, and what I really hope to convey to you and your mom, Sage, is that blind people don't need to be saved. At least not like that. Blindness hasn't been a tragedy for me, merely an inconvenience. I'm okay. I wish she could see that. I wish she could realize I don't need to be able to see to feel loved, and that I'm just as happy being blind as I ever was before. She's taking my blindness harder than I am and it hurts to see her so distraught.

I'm doing fine. I've adjusted. And even though I'd love to be able to see again I don't feel sorry for myself. I am still me. Life is still good.

My dad has accepted it. He doesn't treat me any differently than he used to. He accept me as I am. That makes me happy. I realize it's awkward for most sighted people to be around blind people. People don't know what to say to us, or if they should say anything at all. People have lots of questions for us but feel it would be rude to ask. People act self conscious around us. I hate that feeling. Just be yourselves, people. Don't walk on eggshells around me. Don't censor yourselves just because I'm blind. That makes me feel awkward, too.

And please, please don't feel sorry for me. I have successful kids and adorable grandchildren. I hold the endurance swimming record at my college. I have the highest rated YouTube comment on a Freddie Mercury video. I've swam in two oceans, skied down high mountains, rode a motorcycle through the beautiful Arizona desert, paddled a canoe in Lake Powell, built a house and all the furniture in it, and every morning when I awake my arms are wrapped around the angel on the pillow next to me.

You don't need to save me from the encroaching darkness. There's more than enough light in my life. I can hear the smile in my kids' voices, I can feel the love in my wife's touch. Just be happy for all the things I have, don't be sad for the one thing I haven't got.

After all, aren't we all handicapped in one way or another?

Your grandmother doesn't need your pity, she needs your respect. She doesn't want your sorrow, she wants your love. She absolutely needs a sense of purpose. She needs to feel useful and necessary because going blind can make a person feel useless and unneeded. Listen to her stories. Learn from her experience and her wisdom. Value the insight she still has to offer.

I realize that can be easier said than done. It's hard to find the right tone to use in a situation like this. Blindness changes everything but blindness changes nothing at the same time. Everything in your grandma's life is different now except her - she's still who she's always been. Please don't let the initial awkwardness last. Talk to her. Mistakes might get made but keep talking and you'll get past them.

Nobody teases me anymore. I guess it's inappropriate. When I turn around and accidentally knock a glass of water to the floor everybody rushes to help clean up the mess. They even apologize to me for leaving the glass on the edge of the table. But the obvious joke is hanging there in the room. Everybody's thinking it but nobody want's to say it. They don't want to say it because they don't want to hurt my feelings. I don't want to say it because I don't want them to deny it. So it goes unsaid. Blindness has taken away our ability to laugh at ourselves in social situations. Nobody teases me anymore, but I sometimes wish someone would.

Do you understand? Can you see how important it is to treat your grandma the same way you always have and not like a stranger? We laugh when our friends fart but we pretend we didn't notice when a stranger does it. Don't make your grandma into a stranger. She's just lost her eyesight, don't make her lose her grandchild, too.

She needs you. Not just your eyes to see for her, not just your hand to guide her. She needs you. She needs your acceptance, not your awkwardness. If all you talk about is a way to cure her she's going to feel she's unacceptable without her eyesight.

I wish my mom understood. Her inability to accept my blindness feels like an inability to accept me. It's not easy for her, not after what happened to my little brother. I let her do it because I understand she needs to do it. I let her do it because I couldn't stop her if I tried. But damn it, Mom, I want to feel like someone you accept, not someone you need to fix.

None of this is easy. Well, maybe the blindness is. Seriously, it's way easier being blind than going blind. Being blind is okay but going blind is really hard. There's so much grieving going on - there's grieving the loss of your eyesight, there's grieving the loss of your sense of purpose, there's grieving the loss of your potential. There's depression and self pity and guilt. But actually being blind? It's ain't half bad once you get used to it. In some ways it's even weirdly fun.

Sage, please understand how much your grandmother needs to be accepted. She's having a hard time accepting the loss already. The more you act like saving her eyesight is the most important thing in the world the harder it will be for her to accept her loss.

I assume grandma is already seeing a retina specialist and getting the shots if they determined it would help?

The best thing you can do is, find tools and practice with her on how to continue engaging with society. If she hasn't already, moving to a community where she doesn't need a car to leave her house and talk to other people.

Help her set up and learn how to use Alexa/Echo dots for example. She may remember there used to be a phone number that people could call to find out what time it was. It is like that. All sorts of things like how the weather is outside, what day it is, using her voice to call her contacts, and even subscribing/connecting her to podcasts that are voice controlled.