Mother cries when she has to ask for help
SANTA FUND
Every day, Carrie’s world gets a little smaller. Some mornings, she’s afraid to open her eyes, lest it should disappear completely. About 16 years ago, the single Mississauga mother of three was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, a progressive degeneration of the eye’s retina, often referred to as tunnel vision.
Carrie tried to adjust, switching from her full- time job as a nurse to part- time hours and giving up driving. But as the edges of her reality began to fray, the adjustments only got more painful. In 2001, she gave up her job completely.
“ I wasn’t able to function — work, home, kids — at a normal 45- year- old level.” She had to sell her house and find an apartment close to conveniences. Cooking became a slow, simple and cautious affair.
“ I never cook when my 6- year- old is home,” Carrie says. And there’s always a fire extinguisher within reach. “ I’ve had a couple fires.”
Today, Carrie has about 10 degrees of central vision left: “It’s like looking through a big fat straw.”
If Carrie can’t see the whole picture, her children are only too aware of what is happening. While the older two, now teenagers, came to understand their mother’s condition long ago, 6- year- old Jasmine is still fumbling for answers. When Carrie knocks something over or stumbles in public, her daughter cringes. And for Jasmine, Carrie’s service dog is a dead giveaway that something is wrong with her mother.
“ My little one doesn’t want people to see the dog,” Carrie says.
“ Some people assume that if you’re visually impaired you’re also deaf and dumb.
“ I just feel my kids have been cheated out of a normal mom. Although they don’t say it, I think they’re sometimes embarrassed.”
Trying to sustain an illusion of normality, at least for her children, is made doubly difficult by the fact that Carrie depends on disability payments, child tax credits and spousal support. Last year’s T- 4 slip put her annual income at $ 12,000, a far cry from the $ 60,000 she once earned at the hospital.
“ And your children want what other kids want,” she says. “ I have a hard time saying no, so I will do without.
“ If I had been brought up living in a family of that generation with that kind of income, it would have been different. But coming from a good paying job and going down to poverty is . . .” Her voice trails off. But every time she awakens, Carrie trades a little more day for night. And that old familiar fear creeps in.
“ The biggest fear that I have right, now is that if I should ever lose all my vision ( Jasmine’s) dad would try and take her away from me. He would try and fight me for custody.” So Carrie is seizing what’s left of every day to make her daughter happy.
That’s why her mother marshalled the courage to sign Jasmine up for the Toronto Star Santa Claus Fund. The century-old charity will distribute 45,000 gift boxes to children from struggling families this year.
For Carrie, who cries when she has to ask for help, it was a difficult, desperate call. But this is her family, and she wants her children’s vistas to grow.
“ I try and hide the depression and seek counselling and do the best I can,” she says. “ My kids are happy and involved with the community and I’m fairly good at finding resources.” The Santa Claus Fund is celebrating its 100th year of serving underprivileged kids, aiming to raise $ 1.35 million for children across Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Ajax and Pickering.
If you have been touched by the Santa Claus Fund, or have a story to tell, e- mail ccotron@thestar.ca or call 416-8142751.