Jason

Jason couldn't believe he was lost in the grocery store. He felt helpless, when mere minutes before, he was feeling confident after an uneventful bus ride, walk to the store, and even obtaining a shopping cart with ease. His now realized that his vision had deteriorated further, making it impossible for him to identify the items on the shelves.
He lost track of time as he wandered down aisle after aisle, hoping someone would help him. It had made complete sense earlier to schedule this shopping trip when the store would be nearly empty. Eventually, his nerves frayed, and tears began to prick his eyes.
Suddenly, a gentle voice interrupted his worries. "Hello there, I'm Rebecca. Is everything okay?"

Jason turned around to see someone he assumed belonged to the voice, although he couldn't see her clearly enough to gauge the gender of the red and blue smear in front of him .
"No, I'm sorry," Jason replied, attempting to turn a sniffle into a gruff cough. "I'm struggling with my vision and can't seem to find anything."
Rebecca took in the white cane and darting eyes, seeing before her a man with expressions of fear and relief alternating on his face. When offered her assistance, the relief won out. She guided him through the store while they talked about her two kids and their activities. She helped Jason pick out his groceries with care and patience. The kids could eat boxes macaroni and cheese for another day. They'd probably prefer it to the dinner she had planned to shop for anyway.
After they checked out, Rebecca insisted on driving Jason home. During the trip, he opened up to her about how he had been going blind for a couple of years now and how frustrated he was feeling about giving up on some of his passions, like biking and hockey.
Rebecca listened closely; she could hear the sadness in his voice. Her heart went out to him as she guided him into his home with all of his groceries in tow.
"Thank you so much for your help," Jason said when they were at his front door.
"Of course," Rebecca. She considered offering Jason a hug, but decided against it.
As they entered the house and Jason hung up his cane, Rebecca noticed how he hesitated, gauging his steps as if trying to take in the layout of his home anew. He hoped that she didn't notice that the doorknob to the kitchen escaped him on his first two attempts to usher her in, not even glancing back. He wouldn't have made out the expression of compassion on her face that proved that she had observed it all too well. She felt a little guilty rustling the plastic bags as if she were examining their contents rather than watching Jason struggle.
Jason half led the way as Rebecca steered him to the kitchen counter, where they set down the bags of groceries. As he began unpacking, she asked him about his experience at the Lighthouse he had mentioned in the car. 
"It's been helpful," Jason admitted. "But it's also hard to accept that this is my life now." 
"I can only imagine," Rebecca sympathized, watching him struggle to distinguish between a can of soup and a jar of olives. She noticed how he fumbled with the twisted plastic bags, leaving them laying loose and empty on the counter.
Jason sighed heavily. "I used to take my sight for granted, you know? Now I have to learn how to do everything all over again." 
Rebecca took in the scattered organization of Jason's cupboards and shelves, as well as the braille labels affixed to certain items.
"It's not easy, I'm sure," she said softly. "But you're doing great. It sounds like you're making progress even if there are some rough days." 
Jason nodded gratefully, and they finished unpacking and arranging everything in its proper spot.
"Thank you so much for your help today," he said as she headed towards the door. "I don't know what I would have done without you." 
Rebecca turned back towards him with a warm smile that he couldn't see. "You're welcome. Any time, really," she replied. "You have my number."
Jason was left with his thoughts. As he started feeling lost once again in the quiet of his home, he briefly marvelled at how their paths had crossed. He'd made a friend in Rebecca despite, or rather because of, his increasingly unhelpful eyesight. While he wanted to believe that he couldn't rely on anyone else forever and needed to find strength within himself, it suddenly struck him that accepting help took its own kind of strength. He looked forward to seeing Rebecca again, although he knew it would be a while before he could convince himself to let her kids watch him stumble and grope around, no matter how charming she had made them sound.