Why Didn’t I Realize My Mom Was Deaf?
I can’t really answer that question.
I never heard my Mom refer to herself as “deaf.”
She always insisted, and said with much conviction, she was “hard of hearing.”
But …….. she was deaf.
I grew up thinking that she just couldn’t hear as well as the rest of us.
In fact, it wasn’t until I was in my 20’s that I realized she really was deaf. I was ignorant ………… but, I never understood how profound her hearing loss.
I think, in part, because she never allowed her disability to get in the way of her goals or the life she wanted to live.
Or maybe I didn’t realize because that was my “normal,” my siblings “normal,” my Dad’s “normal” and Mom’s “normal.” It was the only normal I knew.
She really was deaf!
She wore a hearing aid and, between it and reading lips, made her life work. She had a whole bag of tricks, some would call survival skills, which helped her get by.
For instance, do you recall those old fashion alarm clocks, that had a knob on the back of it, you wound? Pull the knob out and the alarm was set. When it went off …….. Lordy …….. everyone in the near vicinity would hear! She placed that alarm clock underneath her pillow every night and the rattling vibration from the engaged alarm would awaken her.
She knew how to survive. She knew how to make her life work.
No ………. let me rephrase that ……… she excelled at making her life work!
When she took her hearing-aid off, she could not hear a thing.
Yep …….. deaf.
Her hearing loss started when she was in grade school and, as I recall, my Mom said a teacher noticed it and brought it to the attention of her parents. I think her Mother and my Mom traveled by train to Chicago to see a doctor, but there was little they could do to help.
My older siblings would remember better than I, but I’m pretty sure Mom said that her hearing loss was a direct result from damage to the cochlea (the inner-ear organ) from the Mumps.
Actor Rob Lowe suffers from hearing loss as a result of the same viral infection, caused by the Mumps.
By the time my Mom was 17, and graduating from high school, her hearing loss was significant.
In my opinion, if one is going to lose their hearing, she was fortunate that her hearing loss happened after she started school.
The reason I think she was fortunate?
Because her hearing loss was gradual, she was able to learn to talk, start school and learn phonics. She had a pretty significant, phonetically correct, vocabulary by the time she graduated high school. Words she learned later in life were the ones that could give away her disability to new people she met.
She was a life-long student dedicated to learning new words and pronouncing them correctly, and by keeping a dictionary close by and referencing it daily, most people were non the wiser of her disability.
It was frustrating for me as a child of a deaf parent and, if I’m completely honest, it was just as frustrating for me as an adult.
Even though my Mother was extremely independent, she still needed a little extra help in certain areas of her life.
When she started college around age 40, I was about 4 years old. Her passion was reading and had decided on a career involving books. Library Science. My oldest sister was married by then and she would watch me so Mom could get to her classes. Every so often, I would have to go with my Mom to class when there was no one available to watch me. I would sit at the back of the room and draw or color while she took a seat in the front row, smack dab in the middle, like our Sunday outings to church, assuring she wouldn’t miss a word.
It would take some time for her to become acclimated to a new voice but all the professors allowed her to tape record their lectures. Combined with the hearing aid, she would also try to read their lips as they lectured but if they turned their back to write on the board, or they paced back and forth or up and down the isles, that information was usually lost. I remember her saying with great disappointment, “I wish they’d stand still!”
I remember her, so vividly, tending to such tedious tasks as ironing the bed sheets and my Dad’s shirts while she listened over and over to the recordings of her lectures, rewinding and playing the same thing over until she figured out what the professor had said.
Every so often, after multiple and failed attempts to understand, she would ask me, or who ever happened to be around, to repeat what we heard the teacher say on the recording. I remember repeating words, and sometimes sentences, the best I could, even if I could not correctly pronounce what I was repeating, until she would understand and smile with delight. Of course, I was equally pleased knowing that I helped!
She was the most resolute woman I have ever known. She earned her Masters in Library Science while simultaneously keeping her job at the Fort Wayne Public Library. The library was an early champion of the disabled, employing many with impairments.
For many years Mom was a manager at the Tecumseh Branch but decided to start a new chapter in her life, just after I married. She was 57, sold her house, packed up her belongings and moved to Monterey, California, where she took a job as the head librarian at Soledad Prison.
When she went to the interview, she said the books were stacked on the floor everywhere. No shelving, no computers, no Dewey Decimal system ……. no nothing. (Insert slight exaggeration) Her job was to build the prison library from the ground up.
Although we (her 8 children) were anxious, that she had taken what we perceived as a dangerous job, she was excited about her new challenge.
She worked at Soledad for about 10 years and retired back home in Indiana. She only had to work 5 years for California’s State Prison System to retire with a full pension but Mom kept working. She loved her job.
Using the combination of a hearing aid, discreetly tucked behind her ear and underneath her hair, and reading lips, most people my Mom encountered were clueless to her disability. We knew …….. and used it to our advantage at times. 🙂
As adults, I remember all of us kids, sitting around the table at Thanksgiving, smugly discussing what were getting her for Christmas, knowing she wouldn’t catch on. It was always so loud, which made it difficult for her to follow any of the conversations.
But ……. she used it to her advantage as well. She told us kids that when we were little she used to turn down her hearing aid so she didn’t have to listen to us bicker.
How funny is that!
Because my Mom was deaf, we didn’t have a traditional “Mother-Daughter” relationship. I couldn’t just call her on the phone and chit-chat about the days events.
When you called my Mom, you had to tell her right away who you were and state your purpose for calling. She was very good about repeating what she thought she heard you say………..
A telephone conversation with my Mom would go down like this:
- Mom: Hello?
- Me: Hi Mom, it’s Katy.
- Mom: Katy? (If she heard you correctly)
- Me: Yes. 🙂
- Mom: Katy! How nice to hear from you!
- Me: I will be up to see you on Sunday.
- Mom: You’re coming up?
- Me: Yes, Sunday.
- Mom: Sunday?
- Me: Yes!
Short and sweet.
This really isn’t an exaggeration. It took an exhausting amount of energy to communicate with her via phone. A conversation like this would be considered a home run. On other occasions, there would be a few “No’s” and then repeating what you said much slower with careful annunciation.
If you called her often enough, or saw her on a regular basis, she would recognize your voice right away and the conversation would go much smoother.
She tried the TTY system for a while, and as great as it worked, it was time-consuming, mainly because she insisted on typing her response, which then required the operator to read what she typed to the caller. It would have been more efficient for my Mom to just respond verbally.
As time went on ……. technology was improving and that meant my Mom finally had a better option available to her, other than a conventional hearing aid.
Enter The Cochlear Implant.
This device, for her, was life-changing. For us, as well. Let’s just say we could no longer have the same discussions around the dining room table. 🙂
I remember sitting at the kitchen table with her, shortly after the implant was placed. She looked at me and said with excitement, “what’s that sound?” The refrigerator had just kicked on.
She could now hear the birds chirping clearly. Every new noise she experienced was like watching a child learn something new. She was discovering a new appreciation for life.
I only wish the cochlear implant had been actualized sooner for my Mom, as she was already retired and around 70 years of age when she had it placed.
Email ended up being my Mom’s preferred communication tool. It was a blessing for all of us but, as she got older and suffered from some dementia, using the computer became a more daunting task for her. Thankfully, the last 10 years of her life she lived around one, or more, of us.
Even though she managed to live on her own for those last few years, two of my brothers (and their spouses) lived near her and took care of her minor, and sometimes more serious, needs. The rest of us were grateful that they were there to help, and keep an eye on her.
This Mothers Day, I wish to send earthly blessings to my Mother in heaven. She inspired me as I was growing up and I am inspired as I remember how she chose to live her life.
She was young at heart. She tried new things. She traveled to many other countries. She adored her children. She loved to play with her grandchildren. She made time to volunteer on a regular basis. She always, always, always had a book with her. She payed attention to her health and stayed physically active until her death at age 86.
I could go on and on about her lifetime achievements. They were colossal.
She died when I was 50 and, during that time, I recognized her continued dedication to learning. I witnessed much of her struggles in life. Her struggles taught me about compassion. I deeply understand the trials of others because of her.
I watched how she would not allow society to define her abilities or disability.
She was courageous in all aspects of her life.
And although our relationship was not “warm and fuzzy,” it was full of love and respect.
She was a role model unlike a typical Mother.
But, who wants a typical Mother anyway?
Happy Mother’s Day!
“Successful Mothers are not the ones that have never struggled. They are the ones that never give up, despite the struggles.” – Sharon Jaynes
xoxo, Katy