(Ch. 30 of my story of my journey into Deafhood…)
And so, now that I was in recovery, my visitors came. They came, and they came, and they came. I never knew there were so many people in my life! I was often overwhelmed, but mostly I felt humbled and loved. People came from every corner of my world. Old friends, and new; nuclear family and step; relatives, and friends of relatives, and friends of friends who had been praying and hoping for my full recovery. People whom I didn’t even know came — people sent to me from my relatives places of employment, from my school, and from my friends’ churches.
Once or twice, I would wake to find several strange people around me laying their hands on me, offering prayers for healing. Even though I know they had good intentions, they frightened me. After a couple of these episodes, I pulled my mother aside and whispered, “Mama, don’t let people do that! It scares me!” She told me had she known, she would’ve filtered them out or at least asked me if it was okay.
One day a few high school classmates came to see me. One of them was Danny, a Little Person half my height with a big heart. Danny was my underclassman by 2 grades, but we had known each other through drama classes and theatre productions at school. He was a wonderful and witty guy with a great sense of humor. He was also my date to my senior prom just several months earlier.
Since I was a senior class officer, I had to work a little at our prom. The prom theme was “Fantasy Island” and my classmates had asked me to ask Danny if he would stand in our greeting line with us and play “Tattoo.” When I asked him if he would honor us with his presence, he replied in a sly-as-a-fox voice, “Only if you’ll be my date!” His request caught me off guard, but as he raised his eyebrows up and down, and flashed a cheesy smile, I started to crack up, and told him I would be delighted. He simply captured my heart.
Danny drove us to the prom in his Toyota Corolla, while seated on cushions that made him sit high enough to see out of the windshield. The car was rigged with wooden blocks on the gas and break pedals so he could reach them with his feet. It was a makeshift adaptation, nothing like the accessible equipment they have now, but worked well enough. It was so funny to see the expressions on people’s faces as we parked at stoplights. Danny, who was a natural actor, played them for all they were worth.
Danny now stood at the foot of my hospital bed, teasing me by trying to lift the bed sheets to take a peek. Suddenly, he and my visiting friends were interrupted. One of my aunts and a few of her friends from her church had come once again to lay hands on me and pray for my healing. Auntie told me she had been there before when I was not alert. She told me she had brought some people who had been praying for me for days. They had heard of my gradual recovery and needed to see me to witness for themselves this miracle and the power of their prayers.
I looked at Danny as he lifted one eyebrow. I loved my Auntie. I knew she was very religious and that this act of prayer would mean a lot to her. Auntie’s love of God, her faith in Jesus, and her commitment to prayer was powerful and moving, despite the awkwardness of the moment.
Within minutes, my aunt’s friends learned that I had been left with a hearing loss as a result of this illness. They asked if they could lay their hands on my ears. Though I was not entirely comfortable, I did not want to be rude, and certainly did not want to miss a chance to get my hearing back through some miracle. So, I agreed to let them lay their hands on me. I watched, slightly embarrassed for my friends, as they got pulled into the prayer group against their will.
Naturally, I could not hear a thing, but I could see Danny’s face at the foot of my bed, which made it hard for me to keep a straight face myself. He winked at me a time or two, raised one eyebrow, looked suspiciously at my aunt’s friends now and then, wrinkled up his nose, pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, all in good fun. I lay there, and along with Danny, wondered what this healing business was all about.
(Footnote: You are now reading the chapters entitled: My Journey Into Deafhood, which tells of the first recognition of my deafness and waking up to a world of silence. It also tells of how I grieved, coped, adapted and then thrived as I learned to embrace my Deaf self. Thank you for reading! More coming soon…)
LaRonda,
Now that you remain Deaf (cultural emphasis intended), how do your Aunt (and friends) feel about their abilities to cure your ears? Also, how did you respond to them once you’ve accepted yourself?
Left by Josh on July 30th, 2007