A Deaf In The Family: Starting Over (ie Dating) Part 1

He said I drove him sane…

2008

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Slyfoot said he was half deaf, half blind, and half crazy, but I didn’t think it was true.  People say all sorts of weird things about themselves on the internet to make them sound interesting. I’m not sure all those particular ‘half’s’ are all that interesting, but I thought it was just an attention grabber.  

I didn’t know Slyfoot, or Sam as I came to know him later, irl (in real life).  I just thought he was some gamer/hacker/computer geek who was way too into Linux and rosaries.  I never put it all together until we started talking in earnest–and that didn’t happen until after the dream and we were making plans to get married.  By that time it was too late. God had already let me set my own trap and watched quietly as I walked right into it.

I couldn’t blame Him. I had given him permission.  I’d invited him to in a flippant moment. Truth be told, I had practically dared him to.  I didn’t think he’d take me seriously, and I never imagined it would end up the way it did.

It all started two years after my divorce.  I was in my mid thirties. I had four children, but only the two youngest lived with me: E, my daughter, and J, my youngest son.  My two older boys, B and D, lived with their father in the same area we had all lived together before the divorce: Katy, Texas.

At that time, I lived in the northwest of Houston in a decent, inexpensive (relatively speaking), townhome apartment, struggling as a single mother still having a difficult time with my ex, even two years after we split.  

My father told me to start dating.  At this time, my father had been divorced three times and married four times–twice to my mother.  I told him I would work on that, with no intention of doing so. I gave the appearance of respect. I didn’t tell him that he was the last person I’d take advice on romance from, or that I couldn’t understand why he and my mother decided to get back together with him. But being my dad, I did listen and I thought about what he said, but not much more than that.

In The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (The Mormons) we have Wards instead of a Parish.  And instead of a parish priest, we have a Bishop. You can’t switch wards or bishops, as some people outside the Mormon church do, with some special exceptions.  

None of the clergy in the Mormon church is paid.

Temples are not like Ward buildings, where Mormons meet every week to partake of the sacrament, attend Sunday School and auxiliary meetings.  They are sacred places where ordinances are performed that tie us to our families for eternity and give a glimpse of heaven. Only worthy members, those with a recommend, are allowed in the temple.  To obtain this recommend, members have to adhere to the Word of Wisdom–a guideline to a healthy, God directed/centered lifestyle–pay their tithing–1/10th of their increase, be interviewed and found worthy by your bishop and your stake president, who is a little like a Bishop of the several parishes in his district.

Sometime after my father had told me to start dating, I went in to my bishop for a temple recommend interview and he, Bishop Slack, told me that I needed to start dating.  I laughed nervously and told him that my father had said the same thing just a few weeks earlier.

I made no commitments and didn’t do anything more about that admonition than I had my fathers.

When I went into the interview with the stake president, I didn’t expect much small talk.  Stake Presidents have even less time to themselves, and more appointments to get to, than bishops. It was a bit of a surprise then, after the stake president started with the question on how my life had been–the trials of single motherhood, how hard that is in a ward full of functional, intact families–that he told me that I needed to start dating.

I laughed and decided that I better take the advice before one of the Twelve Apostles called me.  I didn’t want to take a chance on getting all the way up the chain to the prophet.

 

Previous chapters can be found

Here (1)

and

Here (2)

Life in Color With Closed Captions

“How do you do it?”

There is a unusual level of dysfunction that my family lives with on a daily basis.  We all realize that this is not ‘normal’ for most people, not even most blind or deaf people and their family.  For us it has become ‘normal’ even if it is not comfortable.  The children are well adjusted to it, still able to communicate with their friends while communicating with their step-father in the best ways to be understood.  There are still miscommunications.  There are still problems that can’t be fixed with a light rope in the hall, clean hallways and regular oil changes.  Some things are still unbearably difficult, but somehow, we make it through.

Family and friends have been an invaluable resource as have charity, welfare and church.  They are all a regular part of our ‘normal’ life.  They all lift us up when we feel we are drowning.  And we try to be a blessing to all of them in return by serving and returning support.

It is a hard, long, difficult road, with many moments of sorrow and frustration, but just as many miracles and sufficient moments of joy.  Sometimes the joy seems fleeting and as hard as we try to hold onto it, it slips like sand through our fingers and we hit the next obstacle.  We struggle, and we endure.

Here is where we share the moments of joy, so we can look back and giggle, smile and remember.  There are many more moments of frustration ahead.  Sometimes we feel overwhelmed by it, and then a friend appears and we are, as CS Lewis said: Interrupted by Joy.  Thank you for being a part of it.