Our relationship is a tempestuous one. It, too, is loud. While maybe not measured in decibels, our conversations, jokes, disagreements, teasing, and--I'll admit--especially our arguments, have been known to shake the rafters.
When a Deaf person is angry, his signs get bigger. Faster, sharper. Vigorous, even. Knowing this, an observer can easily surmise that Ben's broad shoulders and well-defined upper arms are the result of some very vigorous conversations of late.
Ben is growing up. He is pulling away. He is eager to get out and experience independence.
And his mother is not eager for this to happen.
What mother ever is?
As is often the case, Ben's later teenage years have punctuated--and sadly, sometimes punctured--with fights between us.
"It's so interesting to watch you two argue in sign language," a friend said to me once--as if my parental struggles were a form of entertainment for her.
Little did she know that, while she was enjoying the "show," my heart was breaking a little at seeing the anger in my son's eyes.
And when a heart breaks, I don't care if you can hear or not--it's loud.
No comments:
Post a Comment