Love is not blind!
Love is not blind!
Thursday 28th August 2008
As we lay in bed together, my boyfriend, Andrew Rieskamp, gently stroked my face with his fingertips. He brushed them over my eyelids and lips, then rested his palms on my cheeks.
'You're so beautiful,' he whispered.
'And you're gorgeous,' I smiled.
Some people might find the thought of their boyfriend stroking their face like this a bit weird, but Andrew, 29, did it to me every night. Because his only way of looking at me was with his hands. He was blind.
When I'd met Andrew on a pen-pal website five months earlier, in July 2007, he'd been honest about the fact he couldn't see.
'I fell off of a train I was working on four years ago. I hit my head, damaged my optic nerves and lost my sight completely,' he wrote.
Some women would probably have run a mile, but my 10-year-old daughter, Ashleigh, was blind in her left eye, so it hadn't put me off.
We'd exchanged pictures. Andrew's brother, Mike, 35, had described me to him. As soon as I'd seen the photo of him, with dark brown hair and long eyelashes, I'd fallen for him. We both loved R'n'B music, too, and would spend hours chatting on the phone late into the night. Andrew was single and didn't have any kids, but I told him all about Ashleigh.
I couldn't believe it when he told me that, since the accident, he'd carried on living as normal, even canoeing in Alaska. Then, in September 2007, he flew from his home in Sommerdale, New Jersey, to visit me in Doncaster. I waited at Manchester Airport, and as soon as I spotted the 6ft 5in bloke with the white stick, I ran over and gave him a hug. He was even more good-looking in the flesh, and his eyes looked normal. Back at my house, we stayed up until 2am talking, before falling asleep on the settee. I couldn't believe it when, the next morning, he was up before me.
'Tea?' he called from the kitchen, flicking on the kettle.
'B-but…' I stammered. 'How do you know where it is?'
'I counted my steps when you showed me around,' he smiled.
Now, that was amazing. I wasn't the only one who thought so. When I introduced Ashleigh to Andrew, she thought he was brilliant. The three of us went to the cinema together, played in the park, and he even sat with her and watched her favourite High School Musical DVD.
I was falling for Andrew fast, and, judging by the fact he hadn't booked a return ticket, he felt the same. Now, it was December 2007, and as we fell asleep with my face gently cupped in his hands, I felt happier than I had in years. Next day, when I came home from my job in an office, he opened the door with a big grin on his face.
'My specialist just phoned,' he said. 'They think they can fix
my sight!'
'You're joking,' I gasped.
'The nerve behind my left eye's so damaged, it's dying,' he explained. 'But the right one isn't as badly affected. So they'd inject my left optic nerve with stem cells.'
'That's brilliant,' I said, excitedly.
So, on 8 January 2008, I kissed Andrew goodbye at Manchester Airport, and he flew out to Atlanta, Georgia, to have the treatment. He planned to stay with his parents, Mike and Janet, in Tampa, Florida, to recover after the op, before coming back to Doncaster. That night, I sat up, worried sick. Finally, at 2am, the phone went.
'I'm at my parents',' Andrew said.
'Can you see?' I asked nervously.
'Not yet,' he replied. 'I'm bandaged up and they said it will take a while.'
A week on, I waited nervously at Manchester Airport. Then I saw him, walking towards me, a purple bruise on his left eye. I studied his face. Was he looking at me? Would he know who I was? Running over, I threw my arms round him.
'I've missed you,' I gasped.
'Not as much as I've missed you,' he smiled.
'So can you see me?' I asked.
He shook his head.
'My sight's improved,' he said. 'I can see light and dark now, but we'll have to wait and see if it will get better.'
That night, we were on the settee, with me watching EastEnders, when Andrew suddenly took my hand.
'Will you marry me?' he blurted.
'Of course,' I beamed, kissing him.
OK, so things had happened quickly. But I'd never been so sure about anything in my life. Sight or no sight, I knew Andrew was the
man I wanted to be with. That night, I fell asleep with my face in his hands, as always, but next thing I knew, Andrew was shaking me awake.
'I can see,' he was babbling.
'Go back to sleep,' I mumbled. 'It's 4am. You're dreaming.'
But when we woke at 8am, I could see from the look on his face it hadn't been a dream at all.
'Look,' he said, pointing to the cars parked outside. 'That one's blue and that one's red.'
I nodded excitedly. Then he stopped, and looked into my eyes for the first time.
'And you,' he said, kissing me, 'are more beautiful than I imagined.'
We wasted no time planning our wedding, and on 29 April 2008, we exchanged vows on a pirate ship in Clearwater Beach, Florida. Four months on, Andrew began work as a labourer. As a side effect of his operation, he suffers seizures, but he's on medication to control them and we're hoping they'll disappear. In the meantime, we're planning to make the most of his new-found sight and hoping to travel. And like a typical bloke, Andrew's dying to watch a football match.Perhaps he's not so perfect after all! But I'd love Andrew whether he could see or not. So as for the saying 'love is blind' — we're living proof it is!
Andrew Says: 'I wanted to get my sight back so I could see Erica. She's so beautiful, it was worth it. I can't wait to enjoy a normal life with her.'