Quiet and Happy

I live in a quiet house. My husband has a vocal cord disorder that makes it difficult for him to speak for any length of time. For years I've been thinking of this as temporary, but recently I've begun to think of it as a disability, something that you live with and adjust your lifestyle around. We've definitely made adjustments over the years. We write letters to one another. He brings a notepad to the dinner table, and he's gotten very good at miming. Even though I speak just fine, it's weird to have one sided conversations, so I find myself keeping quiet, too. I'm basically an introvert, which turns out to be a good thing.

Other people I know have had to make concessions for maladies that have come with age as well. My sister is living with impaired vision. My brother-in-law has MS. Another sister-in-law lives with almost constant pain. And they simply carry on with their lives. I am inspired by people's ability to live with disability. When you find ways to carry on, you take back your power. You're only as impaired as you think you are. 

My husband used to resist accepting social invitations. Now he just comes along and brings his notepad. It's fun to see how quickly people respond to his thumbs up/ thumbs down manner of interacting. One family decided that they were going to write on notepads, too. Even waitresses get into the spirit of reading his order from a pad. And he's gotten very expressive with his gestures. His natural sense of humor comes out in his mannerisms and his written notes, which I'm very grateful for because I love his sense of humor.

I guess the one thing we can't do is have long philosophical conversations. But how many people do have long philosophical conversations after 24 years of marriage? I tell myself that when he retires he may be able to talk to me more because he won't be using all his voice power at the office. That's something about old age that I can look forward to. There is a sweetness about how we are with one another, what we appreciate because of what we don't have. Life is funny that way. Age makes you lose things, by definition. And as you lose the advantages of youth, you don't take life for granted in the way you used to when you were young. I'm finding that what made me happy then is different from what makes me happy now. But I'm still happy. And I think my husband is, too.

Comments

[Darcy Ing]

I love your blog post--I can just visualize everything you describe so well, especially the way people are responding to your husband -- including you! Perhaps your husband is indeed "differently abled," most of us are in one way or another. I'm happy though, that you've found a way to be happy with each other, that's rare, and a blessing from Spirit.

aloha,
darcy