The roar of a truck stopped me dead in my tracks. I could smell the acrid smoke from its exhaust. Tires screeching. I froze. Petrified. Horns honked. I turned. Helpless like a man lost in the ocean. I tried to feel with my cane like I was taught to do on the sidewalk but nothing felt different than anything else. Panic set in, multiple voices yelling contradicting words. “MOVE!” But I don’t. “Hold on” to what? “Idiot!” I’m not. “It’s okay.” And it was because I could feel the words accompanied by the gentle touch of my mother guiding me off the crosswalk. The sounds that had been amplified now grew to a normal volume. Tears wet my face that I didn’t even know had fallen. “We’ll keep trying, you almost had it. It’ll be okay” came the voice of my mother again and I knew she was right.