Alandra's Lilacs: The Story of a Mother and Her Deaf Daughter

17. Smelling the Lilacs

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN SmeLLing the Lifacd ~ In a few weeks the new sign language class will start at school. My husband and I will be there, along with my mother, sister, and niece. Each of us has different reasons for joining the class. I want to be able to follow other people 's signed conversations, and I don't want to be lost anymore when an entire group is using sign language. Tom thinks learning to sign will bridge the gap between him and his daughter and keep one from building with his grandchildren . My niece has rearranged her work schedule to attend, saying that some day Alandra and she will be alone in the family and that she wants to be able to talk to her so they can stay close. My mother still babysits for the boys and they can be very demanding when they think she should be able to understand them. She'll be happy to gain any words she can. It seems our family members' eyes have been opened to our communication shortcomings. For some of us it was having deafgrandchildren, for others it was because they are living close to Alandra again. My writing this book may have even played a role. Whatever our reasons, everyone seems anxious to get all they can from the classes. I wish it had not taken so very long for this kind of acceptance within our family, but am grateful that it came at all. I would give so much to be able to turn back the hands Smelling the Lilacs of time so that I might have talked candidly to a deaf adult. I was always too concerned with what was proper and what might offend. As children, we are taught to be polite by not staring or asking questions-the very things that could help us understand and accept people's differences. If I could have had this conversation with a deaf adult all those years ago, and they had told me, "it will be okay," would I have had the capacity to understand? Would I have been able to see and embrace the future as I am able to now? When I first learned that my daughter was deaf, I didn't know any Deaf people who used sign language. There certainly were no hearing people who thought it was worthwhile . These days, it seems that everybody who meets our family ends up wanting to sign. Tyler and Austin are in day care, and five of their teachers are now actually taking sign language classes. What a terrific thing for them to do! And when the boys first started horseback riding lessons, Cheryl, their instructor, knew nothing about deafness. Now, she tries to learn at least one new sign a week. It's very fulfilling to watch my grandchildren grow up. During the boys' horseback riding lessons, Susan sometimes interprets for me so I can just stand back and watch. I hope that working with horses will teach the boys that communication doesn't necessarily mean speech or sign language, but they are practicing clucking their tongues and saying the word "Whoa" just the same. Holding our beautiful Chandra takes me back in time. She looks so much like her mother; it is as if I am holding I49 Smelling the Lilacs Landy again. She has her mother's dark hair, but like her brothers, it will probably change to her father's sandy blonde. Alandra tells me she is finished having babies because she's a little afraid of having a hearing child. Yet the genetic counseling doctors tell us there is no chance of that happening because Alandra and Chad's matched set of genes would allow all their children to be deaf. Where that gift came from is anyone's guess. Austin isn't as quiet as he used to be. He had to start talking so he could tattle on his older brother; Tyler wasn't about to do that kind of talking for him. (I should ask their mother to write up a list of rules for my refrigerator.) Sometimes I intervene in their battles, reminding them that being brothers is very special. Other times I let them fight it out. My grandsons, after all, are just normal little boys. But as the two of them nap, I watch their little fingers and wait. ...