Amy Signs: A Mother, Her Daughter, and their Stories

45. The Big Question

277 45 The Big Question Rebecca and Amy I love movies, and like many other movie buffs, memorable dialogue is incorporated into my everyday speech. One of my favorite lines was spoken by the little rabbit, Thumper, in Bambi. “If ya can’t say nothin’ nice, don’t say nothing at all.” Long ago I adapted that sentence to reflect one of my personal philosophies: “If ya don’t want to know the answer, don’t ask the question.”Repeating that sentence saved me needless pain when going through my divorce and in other stressful situations. But this philosophy has kept me from asking Amy important questions: How do you feel about being deaf? Do you feel cheated? Are you upset because I attended all of John’s school activitiesbut missed most of yours? How do you feel about that, Amy? I know how I feel: lousy and sad. Do you feel deprived of a family life? I tried to do all the special things when you came home on weekends; I hope that was enough for you. It wasn’t for me. Did you ever wish you could have lived at home and gone to school in Grand Island like John did? I do; I missed you, but I knew NSD was your best option. Are you angry about being deaf? I’m not, but I’m concerned about your survival in a hearing world. You’ve missed out on so much. Amy Signs Main Pgs 1-320.indd 277 6/27/2012 10:37:49 AM 278 Amy Signs I need to ask Amy these questions. I want to know her answers. I’ve rehearsed them a thousand times in my head, but fear of her responses has paralyzed my tongue for years. Before Amy entered high school, I reasoned she was not old enough, nor did she have a broad enough perspective of life to give me a thoughtful answer. I can no longer use that excuse. Amy is eighteen. In less than a month, she’ll graduate from high school and will leave for college. Her perspective of life encompasses more than Grand Island and the Nebraska School for the Deaf in Omaha. In the past ten years, John, Amy, and I have traveled over half of the United States, visited Mexico, and toured Europe, including countries behind the Iron Curtain. She’s seen enough of the world to give me a thoughtful answer, and yet, I’m still afraid to ask the question. How will I react? If her answer is “Yes, I feel cheated,”I’ll be heartbroken , and will try to explain the decisions I made for her years ago. Telling her how hard it was for me to send her to school in Omaha will not lessen her pain and anger if she feels cheated. If her answer is “No,” I’ll be relieved she’s not bitter and resentful , but her answer will not lessen my selfish pain. She may not have suffered, but I have. I feel cheated that I could not participate in her life on a daily basis. Today, we’re shopping for jewelry to match her aqua prom dress that I finished hemming last night. Next week she will wear it to her senior prom. I will take a picture of her tonight in her finery, but that’s not the same as seeing her leave for the prom with her date. As we drive toward the mall, I realize there is no perfect moment to ask the big question. Time is fleeting. Soon she’ll be at college, distancing herself further from me emotionally and physically. Now is the time. We are alone, confined in the car. She cannot look to John for answers or avoid my question by escaping to her bedroom. Amy is staring out her window. I wave my hand in her peripheral vision to get her attention. She turns toward me, her face a question, waiting for me to continue. I inhale, gathering the strength to continue.“Amy, do you feel cheated because you didn’t get to live at home like John did?” My mouth is dry. I’m glad she can’t hear my voice quaver.“Were you unhappy that Amy Signs Main Pgs 1-320.indd 278 6/27/2012 10:37:49 AM The Big Question 279 you had to spend most of your life away...