If you know me at all, you know that I love summer; eat it up, drink it in and wear it out. The fresh food, the ice-cold drinks and the weightless clothing of summer; all this and more, I can't get enough of.
So in that vein, on a balmy, summer evening my girlfriend and I hop in the car headed for Taco Cabana. Which means dirt-cheap frozen lime margaritas and tasty Tex-Mex. We order our food. find a table and settle in to catch up with each other.
As we talk, I notice a large group of adults and kids at the other end of the room; tables drawn together and engrossed in conversation. The main reason I glanced their way was because of the noise factor. Their children were running around the clustered tables,shrieking as they played. This went on for quite some time; and the longer my friend and I chatted, the louder and more boisterous they became.
My frustration turned to anger as I silently judged each person at the table for their rudeness in not handling the situation. Unable to concentrate any longer, I finally looked over, fully intent on catching an adult eye to give the evil look that can wither solid objects. And if this didn't work, I was worked up enough to say something if necessary. But instead of making individual eye contact,on closer examination, I realized that they were all deaf. Not only was their animated conversation with one another fully engrossing; their handicap was insulating them from the noisy distraction. They were literally oblivious to the present irritation.
Caught off guard, my emotions settled and I watched for a few minutes fascinated by the graceful hand movements and intent expressions on each face. And for just a moment I thought about how being deaf might actually be a gift. How life might be more peaceful without all the noise that constantly swirls; traffic and the city bus, construction, airplanes, too loud music, too many infomercials - a constant barrage on our senses.
How it might be easier to make quality choices and decisions when not being endlessly bombarded with requests for our time, money and attention. Yes, I would miss the beautiful sounds of nature, baby giggles and even children-laughter, music at a comfortable volume and more. It was definitely something to think about.
And I also thought about how difficult it must be for hearing children to be born to deaf parents. Their moms probably don't sign to them about using their inside voices. No doubt there are other social and polite behavior cues that are missed early on as well. And how it can be painful to be teased by those who don't understand.
Almost as if this group sensed that their educational mission was complete, they rose from the table, gathered their food trays and loud troupe. As they walked out the door I thought about the gift and lesson they had been. And I made plans for them to stick; to root around in my mind and heart to keep things a little more settled; a little more grounded, peaceful and thankful.
