10:33 p.m. - 2006-03-06
Gone, but not forgotten
I tried something totally different tonight. Instead of relaxing outside playing music so loud I couldn't hear anything else, I sat and listened to the sounds of the night. I could hear the crickets/night creatures, the tinkling of my wind chimes, the soft roar of an occasional motor. It's amazing how many sounds are actually present at any given time, and how so much of the time we are blocking so many of them out with one thing or another. I began to imagine what it would be like, had I never heard a single sound. And then I thought of Carol. I do have some idea of what it is like, from the many nights she and I sat for hours signing, smoking, and sitting in total silence. It was very draining mentally after a couple of hours. I guess that is about the closest I can come to the feeling of actually being deaf.
Carol and I worked together in 1988 doing data entry work. I would see Carol and another deaf gal, Robin, sitting alone at lunch, in their world of silence, signing away. I wanted to be a part of that world. I began to ask them to teach me to sign and somewhat hesitantly, they did. So many people had shown interest before, and that was where it began and ended. But as I learned more, they opened up more to me and Carol and I became very good friends. I learned that I could hardly communicate with deaf people who had little interaction with the hearing world,(via my inclusion at a party where I was the only hearing person there) but with Carol it was easy. She read alot, her father was hearing, etc. When I had my son, she was the person I chose to take care of my precious little guy. She did a marvelous job. I did have some reservations at first, but remembered that deaf people have been raising children for years successfully...haha She even left me daily notes detailing nearly his every move. I knew he was loved.
The arrangement was total bliss until Zach was six months old, and she told me she would be moving to New York.
It was hard seeing Carol go. My signing has gotten pretty rusty, but I can still manage to help some people who come into the post office. They appreciate so much having someone who can communicate with them. I owe that to Carol. What once was an easily accessable relationship for us has now been reduced to a few emails a year with the exception of one visit in New York in 2001. We stood outside Carnegie Hall freezing, signing, smoking, laughing. It was so great to see her again.
Thanks Carol, for opening me up to a totally different culture. Thanks for the wonderful care you gave my son, and for the hours you endured me typing away on the TDD barely stopping to take a "breath". Thanks for being so patient with me when my signing really sucked. My life is better having known you and I hope we are always in each others hearts.
