Therapy Session -- Stepping into the Life of my Mother

Imagine not being able to hear your child cry out in need.
Or hear the birds chirping each morning as your feet feel the warm rug beneath them.
Imagine being in a room of 100 people and all you can hear is the low mumble of the conference speaker.

My mother was deaf. She lost her hearing while in her early 40s, and although she had surgery to correct the problem,  the procedure wasn't successful, forcing her to wear two hearing aids for the rest of her life.

I feel as though I entered into her world this week, as the remnants of my bronchitis have left me with some kind of ear infection - leaving me without any hearing at all in my right ear and very little in my left. Of course, the difference is that once I get in to see my doctor the day after tomorrow, I'm sure I'll be fine.

How ironic, though, that today as I embark on Part 3 of my at-home therapy sessions, I am thrust into her world of silence. Today, I begin the task of going through Mother's box of old family photos.

 

My intention has always been to share them with my siblings; I just needed to find the right time (whatever that means). 

 

I've donated my mother's clothing to charity, removed what used to be her bedroom furniture, painted the room and redecorated, and now it's okay to remember my parent's past and the stories they told by going through these old photos, news clippings and Christmas cards.

 

It's actually caused a bit of a domino effect. I've called my older sister and brother to ask questions about certain things I see in the pictures, and because we're planning a Cousin Union in April, even more questions are being asked. My sister has joined Ancestry.com and has begun some very interesting research. I'm sure she'll uncover the timeline of our lives, our parents', grandparents' and great-grandparents'.

 

Here's a photo my sister located through Ancestry.com -- my mother's parents are the two to the far right. Our grandfather, a lineman for the power company, died in his early 40s after being electrocuted during a line repair. My mother was only 10-12 years old. My grandmother died on my third birthday while she and I were playing Tea Party. None of us have ever seen this photo.

 

Like I feel as though I stepped into my mother's life today, I'm hoping my sister gathers enough information for us to step into the lives of our ancestors, if only for a moment.

I love and miss you, Mom and Dad.