Littlest One

My precious little boy,
who brings me pain and joy.
Who shares with me a place,
a different sort of space.

With childish wonder he takes life in.
And in his impish little grin
I see the insect on the ground,
I watch the T.V. with no sound.
I talk to him with my hands,
he looks up and he understands.

He is my son, you see.
His name is Jeremy.
He's not like you and me.

For him the wind blows quietly.
Waves crash in silence on the shore.
There is no slamming of the door.
The popcorn pops soundlessly.

You see, he's not like you and me.
He is my son, my Jeremy.
And he is deaf.

Paulina Bishop

Jeremy has been a joy to me, in an incredibly poignant way. If anyone had told me I was going to have a deaf child, I would have been incredulous. I knew nothing about deafness and all it's unique compromises, but I was to learn quickly. Jeremy was born deaf, he has no nerves in his cochelea, so he will never hear and implants will do him no good as one must have some hearing in order for them to work. I taught him sign language starting at 2 1/2 years of age, the age he was when we found out he was deaf. I had to go to the library, and find books myself, for in the tiny town we lived in, no one knew where I could go to find anything out about deafness. My nerves were frazzled for awhile, as I couldn't yell for him to get out of harms way, he couldn't hear the car coming down the road, he didn't hear dogs barking in warning, and so on. But we adjusted to his silent world. I really would turn off the TV sound to see what it was like for him to view everything silently. The bleeps and blips of video games were useless for him. He squealed alot, which made people stare and point and say things that thankfully, he couldn't hear.

Jeremy attends a special school now. He disliked being mainstreamed (put into school with hearing children and having an interpeter), so he attends a state school were he is with other deaf students and no longer the odd kid out. He's thriving! He's playing sports, has a job, (he's 16),has a girlfriend, and seems to be avoiding that attitude of puberty that most kids get that says mom is an idiot and suddenly knows nothing. He still lets me hug and kiss him, (I try to keep it at a minimum), and he's a very sweet, thoughtful boy. Oh, he's still a teenager, he can be very stubborn when he wants to be, but overall, he's still a joy to me. It has been an honor to watch him grow up and become a young man.

This poem is the first one I wrote for him, there are others, but this one holds a special place in my heart. I love him beyond words, and I'm looking forward to his growing into manhood. Still, sometimes...I wish he could hear a songbird in the morning, I wish he could soar away in a song by Steve Vai, I wish he could have heard all the nursery rhymes I sang to him, I wish just once, I could hear him say mom...

But I will not weep for Jeremy, for he is a good hearted son and I know he will grow up to be a fine man someday. That is all a mother can ask for, I think. I know he brings me joy. And I love him with all my being.

Email: Paulina