Memories sweet and sad.

This month is all about memories. In the past month mine were kicked into gear when one member of my family discovered she was sick. Thinking about losing her set my mine to memories of all the times I’ve shared with her in my life. My brother’s first baby, and she was so beautiful. Oh, yes, I know you’re thinking prejudice, family members always think a baby is beautiful. She truly was then as now with features as fine as a sculptured porcelain doll so much like her mother’s. She hated me. No kisses or hugs for her auntie until her sister came along a few years later. Maybe it was just that when sister came, she was at an age to reach out to those outside her nucleus family, but I had never had a baby reject me as strongly as she did, a sign of strength that she’s needed this past month. As a toddler, auntie got to babysit. When her mother died, I had the sad responsibility of telling her her mommy would never be coming back. She drew away from me again then. I think it was the association of never seeing mommy and the one who told her. Still through the years I was a part time surrogate mommy for her and her sisters whenever I could be, helping my brother as much as possible in raising three small daughters alone. I remember one shopping trip for school clothes, each one of them looking for something different in what they wanted. One day on a shopping trip of my own, I caught her ditching school. Ah, the look on her face when she realized she was busted. I never told her dad. Dads find out those kind of things without aunts being snitches. When she announced she was getting married, at the justice of the peace’s, the family threw a fit. We all wanted her to have a wedding she’d remembered. I did her flowers, and the wedding was held up when our son’s daughter decided to make that the day to enter into the world. We stayed as long as we could for the birth before we raced to the wedding to deliver the flowers, the bouquet for the beautiful bride. It was, though starting late, a lovely wedding. She reminded me so much of her mother on her wedding day. I’ve had the joy of sharing her three beautiful daughters, babysitting them when mommy and daddy took some time for themselves. When the news came of her illness we were all shocked and frightened. We’ve received good news in that even though it is cancer, it is of a type that responses well to treatment. We’ve got a while yet before we’ll know for certain she’ll be free of it, but if strength and courage make the difference, supported by love from all of those around her, she’ll beat it as she has all other challenges in her life. I’ve never told her, and I do want to for all to read, how very proud we are of her and how much having her in our lives has brought us joy. Love you, Renee.

larion aka larriane wills, two names one author, thousands of stories.

http://www.larriane.com

Rude or infinately patient?

If you don’t know, carry on a conversation with someone hard of hearing. Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not slamming people with a hearing handicap. I’m on the receiving end, not the giving. About twenty years ago, thanks to a doctor who gave me a medication in too strong a dosage for too long a time, I’ve discovered people who answer to both ends of that question. To some, I have suddenly become invisible to a degree they not only cut me out of a conversation; they turn their backs to me. Are they embarrassed, thoughtless, or….? I really don’t know, but I do know, there are more on the other side. I know it’s frustrating to have to repeat what you say, two or three times. It’s frustrating to me to have to ask you to. I’m happy to say the ratio of those willing is far higher than those who get irritated, rude, or back off when I move closer to hear better. Honestly, I’ve had people back away to the point I worried about BO more than did I invade their space. There are those like a clerk I asked questions about my computer. He’d repeated the information in parts for the third time before he asked, “Are you having trouble understanding me or hearing me?” I could have hugged him. He didn’t look at me as if I were stupid. Furthermore, he didn’t start yelling at me to embarrass me. Yelling, btw, only makes it worse. Yelling distorts the sounds I’m already having trouble recognizing. I have about 25% speech recognition in one ear. I supplement that with lip reading which at its best is estimated to be 33%. Anything that distorts the sound or obscures your mouth lessens my ability to catch enough to make sense of what you’re saying, although admittedly there are some people who don’t make any sense anyway. Poor diction makes it nearly impossible. I’m becoming more and more aware of how poorly people speak, enough to make me wonder do they not teach pronunciation in the schools anymore. Slurring, running words together, talking a mile a minute, and chewing gum take my comprehension abilities down to about one word in twenty.

As hard of hearing, I would like to pass these tips along in talking to people ‘like us.’

Get our attention. This doesn’t mean walk up and slap us on the back or. Some people’s favorite, on the fanny. Not only is it jarring to the nerves it’s irritating. A light touch on the arm or shoulder is so appreciated. If you’re across the room, waving wildly usually helps. Also what works nicely is to ask a hearing person near me to ‘touch me lightly on the arm’ and point in your direction.

Look at and talk in our direction. It isn’t necessary to look us in the eye. I know that makes some people uncomfortable. I wouldn’t look you in the eye anyway; I’d be watching your mouth. Keep in mind if you’re looking over your shoulder, to the side, or even at the floor, not only is it difficult to see your mouth, the sound is going that direction.

Don’t cover your mouth.  You’d be surprised how many people do that when their talking. Are they afraid they have spinach in their teeth?

Don’t shout. I’ve already explained why. Sometimes pitching your voice to another level helps, but generally speaking normally works the best.  

Pronoun your words clearly. Self explanatory.

Speak at a normal rate. By that I mean, just because I tell you I’m hard of hearing, don’t think talking in slow motion is going to help. I’ve found slow motion is like shouting. It tends to distort. I’mmmmm gooooing etc. I have asked people to slow down. It’s usually last about three words into a sentence before they’re back up to speed.

Don’t be irritated if I parrot back what you said. I’m just making sure I heard you right before I answer.

Be patient. That’s the most important thing, and enjoy some of the unexpected humor when you ask me a question and I give you some off the wall answer to what I think you said.

Larriane AKA Larion Wills, two names one author, thousands of stories

https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/ White Savage, Chase, Tarbet

http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/ Mourning Meadow

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