Characteristics of a Successful marriage from an Hippie Deaf Woman. Part 1

I had thought long about writing on healthy marriage. Now with four friends who are getting married this year, I thought I’d write them and brides in general, advice that I hope, will be heeded especially in contributions to their marriage’s success. It’s for y’all, lil’ gals!

*Note: It is long so I’m going to break it up into three pieces.


The characteristics of a successful marriage

Now, I hadn’t been married, *gasp! How dare she to make presumptions on how marriages can be successful? * Now, before you go and switch to the WoW link, I dare you to read on and determine if you have the courage…. Or not to preserve your marriage and sanity.


First point:
You’re dating your boyfriend for three months then… *gasp*…you had run out of conversation! That’s when one quickly offers, “Let’s get married!” Now that’s a BAD idea… trust me on that. I can count off all of my fingers and toes and some, on how many weddings had started that way and…ended up in divorces, except for one- that’s the exception. they manage to keep the marriage going on by having the marriage open (If you don’t know what that means, I’m not going to volunteer that information.)

This idea goes the same for having children- now don’t presume I hate children- I do love them….but I find it disturbing when the couple are sitting there figuring out the table placements for the wedding guests, with the wedding coming up in a month (the bride, really, the groom wouldn’t care much in general- he’s fine with the deaf brother sitting next to a teenager who lives for guttural Goth music), and she then realizes, “what could we talk about after the wedding??!” and the groom picks up on the tension…. and the words come out, “We should have a baby right away.”

Now if the couple had been together for more than a year; their relationship secure and stable, high confidence in each other, valuing each other’s personal space when needed, and having the capability to make long-term plans, then they can go ahead and talk about babies!

It’s those couples who are planning a wedding because their older sister is getting wedded. Maybe it is that they don’t want to be left behind when everyone else are getting married. Suddenly, they are running out of conversation, and to include children…that’s a red flag.

I cannot tell you how often I work with children who are unhappy in the family because the parents didn’t get to know each other, and they started to loathe the other. In a hasty decision to “save” the marriage, children were born which, I guarantee, leaves the children to deal with life-long therapy! The point would be: get to know each other, learn flaws and quirks; adapt to each other’s routines and behavior (even his tendency to read Sundays newspaper from front page to sports on the toilet), and be willing to acknowledge if the relationship won’t work out.

There’s no shame in ending the relationship BEFORE considering marriage- only to get married to ‘save’ the relationship is not the solution, period. If you insist on wanting to get married because your mother wants you to get married before you hit the 30’s, then it is necessary to have couple therapy/martial therapy and learn how to ensure that the relationship will be maintained well through 30-50 years, instead of 6 months to 20 years (standard these days).

Second Point:
Don’t compare your wedding to others’ weddings. Your wedding is yours alone, and I don’t give a shit whether you spent 40,000 or 1,000 dollars on it…it’s still YOURS. The wedding is when you and your husband’s personality will be shining out there.

I’ll tell you what stands out the most in my mind. I remember the ceremony at the waterfall, monarch butterflies released at the end of the ceremony, the colorful sunflowers and wheat centerpieces, among the Native American museum antiques, and the bride’s crown of sunflowers and her simple dress that she made from a 1940’s pattern, than so many brides’ weddings that seem to be all alike-- fancy churches, stiff fancy flowers, bows behind chairs, silver/gray gifts, formal bridesmaid gowns, and whatever food they have. I had gone to about :::counting::::: 37 weddings. And I’ll tell you…I only remember two out of 37 weddings I’ve attended.
Why did I only remember 2 out of 37 weddings? The weddings were very simple; the bride and husband’s personalities STOOD OUT among the decorations, the food and the joy among themselves, the unique quirks in the wedding such as mead, the broom wrapped in flowers and feathers, the husband bending his knee and asking his bride for her permission to be her knight… How could one NOT forget all that?

Now, before you presume I’m criticizing your wedding, perhaps I AM….in a way, if your wedding is similar to other weddings. Oh- everyone have the same colors, the same gown, the same marching music, the same songs, the same food, the same dances--perhaps it WILL be forgotten, but all this will stand in your and your future husband’s memory. Maybe you’ll remember every single detail of your wedding... then more power to you. But your guests won’t remember.

That’s a fact. Unfortunately, I had talked to many friends who had gone to weddings AND the friends who had gotten wedded; either regretting or fondly recalling….and they’ll say… they can’t remember the cake’s flavor, what was so funny at the ceremony, what’s so cute about the flower girl.

So you have to dare yourself and FIND something unique! Don’t go for ice sculptures, don’t go for 6-tier cakes, and don’t go for pink-black bridesmaid gowns… (I can’t tell you how often I had seen that!) do something UNIQUE. Keep this in mind….when you scoff at another bride’s ideas for her bohemian wedding, her simple dress, her idea of having a 1940’s trolley bus for transportation, homemade cupcakes of red velvet and carrot cake with frosting in sunflower shape, or having belly-dancers at her wedding…all that will be a guarantee that the guests will remember her $1,000 wedding instead of your $35,000 wedding consisting of ice decorations, matching bridesmaid gowns, the ceiling-tall flower centerpieces, and the white glittery cake with the chocolate flavor. And to add, to expect the groom to remember the first dance song, don’t carry a grudge that he doesn’t! The wedding does not shape the marriage; it is the relationship that shapes the marriage. Yes, the wedding planning can be a challenge to the relationship, but that’s a good way to test whether the relationship can handle the roller coaster of the temporary obstacle of the wedding!

Characteristics of a Successful marriage from an Hippie Deaf Woman. Part 2

Third Point:
I know a good friend- her marriage is ongoing for, oh 27 years… dang, how do they do that?! Easily done! They got to know each other for about three years before deciding on the chain-and-ball tradition. Then they decided to explore the world together. They tasted distinctive fare, they spent so much time with each other, re-learning each other and became a true couple; they talked and listened to each other, compromised on things, agreed to disagree on things, and went to bed not angry.

They did not see each other as a handicap…if she wanted to hang out with her girlfriends, she did. He wanted to attend a chess club every Monday, he did. They had an enduring Wednesday date, spending time together, going to the movies, eating out, caving, and making an ice igloo in their backyard. AND then they decided to have children, and they were all ready to have the children. They viewed having children was an enhancement to their family; they had reached all their goals/dreams and they were set for children. And so they did….they have two handsome and smart sons who were happy with the family. The sons have profited from the parents’ experiences and exposure to the enriching cultures around the world; the older son is an exchange student in Finland, and the younger son is speaking three languages at age of 11. The best part? The family is going on strong for 27 years.

Now what am I talking about?? I’m using this example to compare with many people either I know and/or observed, who had gotten wedded and then planned to have a child-- thinking they could still strive for their dreams of becoming an attorney or be rich by late 20’s or 30’s. Unfortunately, more than 75% had given up on their dreams/goals because they couldn’t-- the children demanded more than the parents expected, and the light in the eyes had gone out, and then resentment grew toward the children. “If not for you, I would have been a doctor!” “I could have been a model but no, having you had ruined my shape!” “You’re selfish, you should be thankful that I gave up school for you” I had heard it all from friends or children/adolescents of families that did not make long-term plans, determine resources available to them, and realize obstacles that may face them.

Now on the other hand, I do know some friends who are determined- both parents are in college, while juggling with two children, employment, bills and assignments. They go to bed exhausted, and they wonder “where could I find energy tomorrow morning?” It does help that they had considered the obstacles, they decided how to face the challenge of balance of school and children, by making compromises, finding resources (campus daycare or sister willing to watch children after school) and making time for the family itself- it’s not easy…they tend to wait until holidays to seize the chance to spend time together. It has been tough, very tough, that one might think the father or mother would have thrown in the towel- but they haven’t…. the couple made a promise to each other to support each other, take turns in giving each other well-deserved breaks and love each other despite the children’s messes on the floor and take-out food in the fridge. Yes, I’ll get to the point…. The couple needs to learn how to compromise, to support each other, and not practice “My way or the highway!”


Fourth Point:
There are lies; gray lies and white lies. No lies around that, serious. I have seen marriages end because of lies, and secrets. I have seen the spouse struggle with discovery of the lies that had been wrapped around the relationship. I have witnessed the other spouse feeling terrible for not coming out with the truth in the beginning. I knew a friend who had lied to her family and that she had graduated from school but hadn’t luck finding a job for the ‘major’ she had graduated in. She married a guy who loved her- he even offered to work two jobs so she can stay home and take care of their children. She didn’t want that- she insisted on doing a part-time job “to keep out of the house” and didn’t want the husband to come visit her at work due to the “company policy.” Only when he got a call that she was killed in a head-on car accident (her fault), did he find out that she was not working where she claimed working at, she was working at UPS, she had no life insurance, and she had piles of bills hidden in her own car, all unpaid for years, collectors chasing after her, and due to her putting down fake phone numbers, they could not call at the house. She could be at home to get the mail and hide them before the husband would come home. He ended up with $78,000 dollars of bills, on top of a lawsuit by the other driver who had been severely hurt. He told me something that I’d never forget, “If I had known all this, would I have married her? No. She lied, and that is a lie of our own family and marriage, it was all fake. I thought I knew her, and turned out she had been a stranger all along.”

So, I’ll tell you- Don’t lie. If you want to hide number of your lovers in the past, go ahead…. But if an ex-girlfriend shows up with a 7 years old child at the door, don’t expect the pregnant wife to turn the other cheek and welcome the fact that you had lied to her about not having any children before. If you have a warrant for your arrest, and you lie about never being in court, and then for the new bride to find out this at the airport, which you cannot go to Italy for the honeymoon, you’re SO in trouble…she’ll definitely tell EVERYONE on Twitter and everyone will wonder “I thought I knew him….” Keep things mysterious, sure, for fun, but to keep secrets that you know can bite you back, you’re just opening a door you thought, had been bricked up- It hadn’t…not with the weak mortar of the lies.

Fluctuating Days of October

How much I love the month of October; the beauty of red, orange and yellow coloring the world, the crispy taste of cold mornings, the leaf-dancing breezes, the chilling joy of Samhain (Halloween to y'all non pagans) and the mystery of night ever alive in this Hunter's Moon. Opportunties to taste pumpkin pie, hot chocolate, pork and squash; to gut a pumpkin and see the face light up in night; and to walk among the leaves and music of the trees preparing to sleep.



Yet..I hate October. Of all months, October is tough to me. A discovery of a murdered woman among the fallen leaves; most forgotten by everyone except for her family and I, although the name is starting to fade from memory. A relative's death by suicide; common in my family, it seems, just like leaves falling one by one. A car hitting me, leaving me with my own struggle, one foot in the summerlands and one foot in the world here, and not knowing if I would survive, but to survive paralyzed or whole. Masks discharged, revealing true or false friendships in the true environment of the hospital. Power struggles during the vulnerable moment of the hour.

I'm reminded gently by the Goddess, that October is of balance. Dark and Light. Whispers in the silent darkness, foretelling new beginnings. Mystery of Life and Death. Samhain is a time of introspection, of emptying the false from the mind, heart, and soul. Dawn and Twilight. Two sides of the coin. Cannot have one without the other. The only choice I have is how I live walking the path of the labyrinth, among the fallen fire-colored leaves.

Mirror, Mirror, who are you?

Throughout childhood to young adulthood, I had to struggle with self blame and self loathe. Any success I experienced, I doubt that it was really me; it was because the teacher, the judge, the group felt sorry for me. I tended to stay to the wall, to stay invisible and to avoid eye contact- why? To survive.
No matter how many A's I could get through schools, no matter how much recognition through fund-raisers and awareness of causes I raised, no matter how often I could meet the expectations, even beyond the unrealistic expectations, I was always considered a failure. I BELIEVED I was a failure.
It was through the fourth therapist, I was asked, "WHO are you, really?" No one had really asked me that before. I couldn't answer that. No, I was TERRIFIED to find out the truth.
I looked at the face in the mirror and wondered, "who is she?" I didn't want to say "me" because after all if I dared to say "me" or "I", I'd end up skinned raw by the scalding venom of her. It was always her, ALWAYS her, it's her clothes, her style, her opinions, her perspectives, her personality, HER. No such as Julie- it was just a clone of HER. To dare thinking different, I felt I was betraying her.
It took me a long time, almost twenty years before I realized- I didn't know who I was, if anyone asked me, I mimicked HER views, never mine since I didn't have any opinions. I then knew that to save any part of myself, I had to escape. I did so, putting a thousand and more miles between us. I felt like a newborn baby- scared witless in the new world; I wanted so badly to return back to her.
I forced myself to stay where I was. I explored with baby steps, such as going to a department store by myself and picking out a pair of sneakers was a tremendous step for me at age of 26! I had to sample a variety of food before I would realize that I like BBQ ribs so much and I dislike busset sprouts- at age of 27. How little people could imagine on how personality can develop from tasting food and trying on clothes in the beginning!
With more learning I gathered, more I realized how much I had missed; I didn't get to jump on the bed, I didn't play dress-up; I didn't have the chance to climb a tree. I never had a healthy childhood. I had to take care of her; to make her happy, I had to predict her moods and take care of her needs even before she thought of them. I ignored my own needs to take care of her need for attention and demands. Due to trying to please her, I was a people pleaser. I could not say no to anything, even to unreasonable queries. I would offer to do errands for people out of my way, just to get them to like me. I experienced a burn out, and I realized as I recovered.. No one was there for me It was a cruel awakening! At encouragement, I read "How to say no without feeling guilty" and walk the walk. I practiced saying "no" and not to experience "did I just SCREW myself up? They are angry at me! Have to do it to keep everything fine!" The world didn't end as I thought it would.
I started to be very angry, I felt she OWES me for so many things I had missed out, about thinking about herself, not me, even at age of six, ten and sixteen. I became bitter. I started to tear into people, pouring venom on people, and manipulating them; finding their weaknesses and using to get them to do what I wanted them to. A friend went, "Why are you becoming like her??!" That rattled my soul! I didn't want to be her, I wanted to be ME.
It took another ten years before I discovered myself, ironically after the hit and run where I had to learn to feed myself, to dress myself, to sit down on the toilet and to write again. I started to see the child within me, and I realized I did not want to lose her again.
After years of re-discovery, challenges, pushing beyond my own limits and dangers, I know who I am, and you know what....I like who I am, and I am not like her at all. I find joy in seeing simple things, giving of love without expecting something back, laughing and crying without worrying about being caught, and being myself. I like wolves. I love to walk labyrinths. I enjoy reading comic books. I prefer baggy jeans and sandals, barefoot if I can! I find joy in radical feminism and being outspoken about HIV/AIDS education for Deaf. I let tears fall due to natural disasters and New Orleans without being ashamed. I am me.
And her? She is my mother, I love her, but I do not have to be like her, I do not owe her anything. I AM WHO I AM.

Another flashback

Today, reading about the demonstration at AGB convention, the comments left in several blogs, I had another flashback. *again?* Not this time about deaf children. It was about two deaf adults I know personally. One friend and one relative. Both ‘hard of hearing’ (they said so) with hearing aids and CI. Names had been changed to protect their identities, so I respect their privacy.

I would LOVE to get to know my second cousin, Christine- I do. But sometimes I wonder if family relatives have manipulated her against me, in fear of any “potential bad influence from me due to being “DEAF.” You see, she fell ill as a very young child and became deaf. I didn’t even know about her until I met her at a family reunion. I was then seventeen and she was eleven. Even at that meeting, once we met in person, there were adults hovering around and once I would raise my hands to sign, they would either herd Christine away or tell me “TALK with your voice! Not your hands!” I did notice that she was very curious about my signing but we never got a chance to communicate together without anyone interfering.
Next time we got together, it was this May. I was invited to her bridal shower. I was even surprised that she would remember me. I think it was because I was in California at that time and I was visiting my aunt who was also her aunt, so to invite her without me would be a RUDE move. So….. I was invited. I went, and I then noticed that she had a CI. She speaks but how good, I don’t know. I did notice she didn’t speak much as her mother and fiancé. This time I didn’t sign because I didn’t want to make a scene. I was afraid that if I start to sign and anyone slaps or shoves on my hands, I WOULD make a scene, so I kept mute. When we finally hugged each other, I was surprised when she signed rusty, “Good to see you!” Her mother actually looked like she just ate something bad! Before the end of the bridal shower, Christine slipped a paper note into my hands. After I got into the car, I looked and it was an email address and note, “Please email me! I want to know you. I would like to know about what it is like to be deaf.”

At this time, I hadn’t yet emailed her. I honestly don’t know what to say. How can one describe being deaf in printed WORDS? How can one explain what it’s like to be deaf? There are so many different perceptions and my perception is only one. Sure I could refer her to vlogs but from that rusty signing, I would suspect she wouldn’t catch even 30% of what someone signs. There is very few blogs out that that *really* describes being deaf, if you get my meaning. I could suggest some books, but if her mother and fiancé had those looks, I wouldn’t want her to get in trouble as well. I DON’T want to be furthermore alienated from family as I am already because I refuse to speak or hear.

About 10-15 years ago, I was living in New Jersey. A friend of mine and I were invited to an annual award ceremony for another deaf friend and so we agreed to go. “Bobby” and I went to this old school, and everyone was speaking. I was experiencing unease because I thought I saw a poster welcoming visitors to NJ AGB meeting. I went “Alexander Graham Bell organization?” and I found myself curious. I had heard a lot about AGBAD but never had attended any kind of meetings or truly interacted with people that are involved in AGB. I found that most of the folks attending the award meeting that day were mostly parents and their children in ages of kindergarten to post-college.

My friend, Wayne was to receive an award for being successful, having a B.A degree and accomplishing a job as a manager in business. Bobby told me before we got into the building “don’t sign- they aren’t comfortable with anyone signing.” I shot back, “how then do I talk?’ How do I communicate?” with a disgusted look. Okay, I CAN speak and lip-read, but not that great. In other words, I could speak and lip-read great among my family but with the public, forget it. I can understand “How are you?” “Can I help you?” “Need gas?” common comments out there. Bobby gave me this pleading look and so I said “okay, I’ll just keep quiet. It’s Wayne’s day.”

After the award ceremony, I had a bitter taste in my mouth. Why? I felt it was all smoke and mirrors. It was very much “SEE! PROOF THAT DEAF ADULTS CAN SPEAK AND HEAR LIKE US!” Never mind that there was only ONE deaf adult at that award ceremony. There were many children there at the meeting, and I was thinking “when they get to his age, how many will be at the award ceremony to show that “deaf children can become hearing”? Maybe one or two. I looked at Wayne and I felt both pride and sympathy for him. Why pride? Despite all this obstacles thrown into his way (speech therapy, learning to identify sounds, fighting to be like hearing to please society, he managed to get a BA degree in business.) Sympathy because he was very alone. He didn’t have many friends. He was basically a loner, not knowing where he belongs. When he signs, he always has this uneasy look as if someone’s jump out of the closest and go “AH! YOU SIGN! NO! NO! THAT’S WRONG! BAD BOY” When he speaks, he looks uneasy as well, unsure if he was speaking clearly or not. So you can see.. I feel proud and sorry for him. I remember when he was invited to Six Flag for Deaf Awareness Day, he accepted with delight. You could see his face lighting up. However when we got there, he would feel awkward, not knowing what to do. He stayed close to me and Bobby while watching other deaf groups chatting. I could see envy in his eyes; couldn’t anyone see that he would LIKE to be treated equally for who he is, not someone that is expected to be someone else by society?

So, knowing those adults who had been influenced by John Tracy Clinic, AGBAD, speech therapists, “professionals” who claims they know what deaf children need, and the hostile environment around them, I am actually curious about the children with cochlear implants these days now. How many children would be curious about the deaf community but afraid to ask or learn because of the people around them? How many children would become adults being awarded for being “successful” but truly alone?

Perils of interpreters through family!

I want to talk about two incidents I went through. They may be considered hilarious, sad or frustrating, depending on your interpretation! Take your pick!

It was more than fifteen years ago when my grandpa died of heart complications. I was relieved when the family said, "don't worry. We got an interpreter for the memorial\funeral." Whewww! At the church, I was waiting for the memorial's start. Mother rushed up to me with a stranger in which she introduced, "This is Lisa, who will interpret." (It isn't her real name, I don't remember anymore.) The memorial was to start in a few minutes. Lisa and I sized each other up and I signed, "hello. How are you?" She went "slow-slow!" Uh oh..... Red flag!

I then voiced as I signed, "Do-you-know-how-to-sign?" She brightened up and said, "yes, I am learning how to sign! I interpret at a church!" Another red flag. I grimaced mentally while smiling at her politely. I knew if I made a scene, the family'd NEVER let me live it down, especially on the day of the family pateriach's funeral! Oh joy...... During the memorial, the 'interpreter' signed much as she can, with a LOT of fingerspelling that caused exhaustion for me, trying to figure what she was saying! Another red flag....

It was a cousin behind me who felt sorry that he gave me a written transcript, oh THANK YOU!!! I remember when the minister was leading in prayers when the interpreter signed something I NEVER had ever SEEN in my life and I'd hope I'd never see again! Thankfully I am somewhat a good lipreader so I know what she was saying with that sign. This sign goes this way (sorry, I don't even have high-speed so I can't do a vlog): a stabbing on one hand, then stabbing on another hand forcefully! She said "Jesus Christ" and I was wincing at the visual, violent stabbing of hands......OUCH. I decided not to go for the burial memorial because I didn't want more "scenes" by this interpreter. I managed to convince the interpreter that I am fine by myself so she'd go away. After cousins came back from the burial memorial, most said, "did you even understand her? I didn't!" I said, "neither did I except for that sign...." And someone said "that I understand right, she meant crufication of Jesus Christ? We didn't talk about it at the memorial!" Some older relatives overheard and told mother. Naturally she said to me, "you should have told me!" I said, "oh yeah, right as the memorial started?" with a sarcastic expression.

Three years ago, my other grandpa was killed by a truck. So I went for the memorial\funeral. Before I went, I said to family, "I want a certificated interpreter. Not someone who is just learning to sign!" So I was reassured that it won't happen again. Harumph.... I'll believe that when I see it!

We went to the church. A young woman was already waving at me. (Guess someone told her it was me before I got through the door.) She introduced herself, and I thought, "hmmmm, not so bad."
I signed and then she said, "can you use your voice too? I don't know those signs." I was like "........ Not again" mentally. I voiced as I signed bluntly, "where do you sign? Do you interpret? Do you work with deaf? How did you know about this memorial?" What she signed, I then immediately knew..... SEE! Signed Exact English. I hadn't seen SEE for two decades! She explained she works with deaf children, for an oral program with SEE if absolutely necessary. She is the next door neighbor's son's girlfriend's cousin..... Figures. Of course, I only caught 20% of what she signed and I was pissed.

After the memorial, I was asked if I wanted to go to the burial, and I said no thanks. I convinced this 'interpreter' to go (didn't I do this before?) A few minutes later, before mother and family left, she wanted to introduce me to a nurse that worked with an ill uncle. The nurse signed! BEAUTIFUL ASL, very native-signing! I was like "WTF! I could have had her for interpreting!" The nurse said that she did offer, but they felt the young woman needed the pay and to be close to her boyfriend, the next door neighbor's son who came to the funeral.... I couldn't decide whether to cry or laugh hysterically.

I learned three things from those:
1) find certificated interpreting services and have family stick to that for funerals (and weddings);
2) be firm with family, don't go for "next door neighbor\third cousin\friend's friend's friend\grandniece's daughter's" interpreters, no matter how cheap they are!
And
3) SEE and ASL aren't the same, ladies and gentlemen!

Interpreters and Tattoos

Earlier today I was asked *again* by mother if I'd think about laser removal of my tattoos, and I said "NO" *again*. That reminded me of the day she found out about my tattoo and I had a quirky smile. So I thought to tell you all what happened.

It was planned for mother to stay with me while after gallbladder removal for a few days. So we all enjoyed London, England for two weeks and then she stayed here, instead of flying on to Colorado. Next day we came early to the hospital for pre-surgery preparations, and to my delight, there was an interpreter (I forgot to request one.) Me dressed in a back-open hospital gown, I was getting nervous. The doctor came in with some other staff. With the interpreter there, he was explaining how the surgery will go. Mother was in the back, so she'd not block my view of the interview.

Then the doctor said, "Don't worry,I will not touch your tattoo."

The interpreter pointed over heads, "Your mom asked, "WHAT tattoo?"

I was like "oh shit" mentally. I was preparing to say something when the doctor turned to tell mother, "she has this lovely tiny fox footprint on her stomach. Nothing for you to be upset about."

Interpreter included facial expression and "attitude" of mother, "I don't CARE.. Remove that tattoo in the surgery!"

I thought it hilarious for the doctor and mother to "argue" while the interpreter tried to keep up with them. In the end, mother backed off when I shot, "it's MY body and MY skin. Get over it!" And the interpreter even stressed how I said it!


In the end, the doctor kept his promise, he didn't touch my tattoo while giving me five nice cuts above my stomach!

Where did 2006 go??!

Eek! I didn't realize how time flew! One day I was crazy making copies for my notebook to give to the human services program at my college, printing out graduate applications, writing essays and doing research about universities that offers mental health or psychology graduate programs AND work with deaf clients. Next day I know, it's already 2007; I just returned from another state where family resides. I have to wonder how they could stand Kansas and not go insane. Oh wait, some of my relatives did. Never mind! I looked up my old blog and realized an oop. I said I'd make 10-12 blogs after June and I only made four. Can we say, I'm awfully busy? Hehehe. I look forward to volunteering, writing more articles after I do more research and working on my quilts. I hope to write blogs about HIV/AIDS in Deaf community (yes some of Deaf can get HIV/AIDS, thank you,) start a debate about movies that get on folks' nerves (like "Sound and Fury" "Di Vinci Code" and "Harry Potter" series,) I also want to talk about mental illnesses and discuss books that are about real individuals with mental disorders. Very interesting, I'm telling you! I just finished three books while I was visiting family. What else could I do when they all were content watching television all the time??!!! I read "Murphy's Boy" by Torey Hayden, "Sybil" by Flora Rheta Schreiber and "Nobody's Child" by Marie Balter and Richard Katz. Very good. I will write about those books soon. Also I hope to do research about mental illness in the Deaf community (yes, some of Deaf can have mental disorders.) All right, I have to get going and take a shower. I have a LONG day tomorrow. Oh yeah, by the way, I graduated with a B.S degree in Human Services Mental Health Counseling! Whooo!

Written by Jules

Cold, a curse on you!

Now how would one get a cold, let me ask you? Especially among family that had no colds, (as they claim.) I ended up with the worst cold I had ever encountered; I actually couldn't lift my arms without straining, or of lifting my legs to make a step forth in an attempt to walk. Never had happened to me before. Very terrifying. My throat was very painful as well that everytime I tried to swallow something, or just gulp, it felt like I was swallowing a ball of nails. Nasty, no?
The visit to Grandpa's coffin the day before the funeral was... emotional. I thought I could stay calm and dry-eyed. I was first of all 8 grandchildren to dash out crying, but I wasn't alone. All but my brother Zach (and I found out later he had already seen the coffin earlier that day) ended up sitting all together on that extra-long sofa and sobbed together. Strange enough, I felt more human this way, I'm involved. For you all folks, that may not make sense, but I'll try. As I grew up, I never had been really "involved" in family events, I was always a wallflower, or someone "outside looking inside the window." At the funeral, there was an interpreter, and... I'll say two words.. she was not good. I still remember that sign she used for the Bible, a fist slamming on the other hand as if stabbing a nail through it then vice verse.. very..morbid... :P But I should not complain..I got an interpreter! = 0
At the lunch after the funeral, I got to learn more about Grandpa, history that I grew up, and I learned something very drastically different between my mother's family and my dad's family. (They are divorced.) It dawned upon me that it's my dad's family is the one that makes all the efforts to get to know me, to make efforts to talk with me (either by emailing, writing forth and back, signing, and speaking (lip-reading), and to touch me, by hugging, patting my hand, kissing me, and (sigh) cheek-pinching. Mother's family, love them, but I'm often than not left in the dark, words thrown back and forth over my head, but for words, "How are you?" "What's up?" "you okay?" "you in school?" and a few comments. There'd be touching, but not -that- kind of hugs that you'd probably get in a family, but as awkward and quick-to-end. I was reminded by someone that I should be glad that I get that. Especially when I think of other families with deaf individuals, and she's right- but I have the right to observe and wish for myself...

It's for you, Grandpa

I know that we hadn't talked much while I was growing up into adulthood. But I remembered your humming while holding me so hard that I could feel my ribs cracking, and your 5'0 clock shadow would rub harshly on my cheek. But I loved those hugs, because that's you. I never had gotten any criticizations, judgements, or anger from him to me as long as I could remember. I know that we couldn't talk much because I couldn't understand, but I felt strongly that our hearts communicated to each other. I had always felt peace and joy within me everytime I saw your smile and that twinkle in your lively eyes. The rumble of your voice while you talked to someone over my head while I was sitting on your lap while I was a child. I rode those tractors with you, and I loved that. I remember your sweat merged with the scent of cut wheat and oil of the tractor, and that is what I will always remember what the scent of love is for me when I think of you. I remember when the cousins and I would try to ride on that grass mower, or the red wagon while you would pull us. We would play Scrabble, cards, or other games on the table by dusk. I remember how you loved that leather armchair while watching your news or sports on the television after working on the farm. I could imagine you holding me everytime I sit on that armchair. I love you, and I already miss you.. Rest in peace.