Sooo…What’s it like to date and be deaf, gray and Italian?

In an old re-run of the Sex and the City series, Candice Bergen plays Carrie’s single boss.  She laments to Carrie that the older man in her life should be seeking women his own age, and that every time an older man seeks an younger partner, the pool gets smaller for her and other older women.  This statement represents a belief held by many older women.

I married my high school sweetheart.  A few years after being widowed, I started dating again. Wow was that ever a shock for me to see what dating was like at 56!   I can’t say there aren’t good and nice men out there.  Sometimes the chemistry just isn’t there.  But as mama says, you can’t hurry love.  I have often looked up to the sky and wondered what my husband would have thought of some of the crazy men I have dated.  I then imagine him looking back down at me shaking his head and asking, “Where did you meet that guy?”  But someday, if we meet again, I have a lot of stories to tell.

Admittedly, the first man I dated I broke up with because I simply wasn’t ready.  Not his fault.  He WAS a good guy.  It’s just some of the random experiences in between then and now that if anything have made me more aware, and yes given me a few laughs.

Take the hairstylist who always wanted to know if I was seeing someone.  Bingo! She knew a man who wore hearing aids, was my age and loved traveling all over the country in his RV, — something I would like to do someday.  There’s a lot of truth to the fact that we who have hearing aids or cochlear implants sometimes communicate differently, and it takes a special person to understand that.  But that is where the similarity between me and this man ends as I soon learned.  We arranged a meeting.

He took me to a top-rated restaurant and called ahead to ask for seating that was conducive to my hearing loss, which was far worse than his.  Nice.  Then after telling him I was trying to lose weight so I was going to watch what I ate, he ordered plate after plate of appetizers, insisting that I taste them all.  I’m sure he meant well.  But he spent the whole night lamenting about how his second wife left him, — taking most of his assets before leaving.  He never asked me anything about my life.  He just talked nonstop.

Then there was the guy who really tried to come into my world of profound hearing loss by learning sign language for those times I might need a little extra help.  That really touched my heart.  But he didn’t know how to talk to wait staff, and returned just about every meal he ordered out with statements about how poorly the food was prepared.  As the mother of a professional chef,  I didn’t digest that well, no pun intended.  Then one night, he asked me to close all the lights in my house because he “borrowed some money from some bad people” who were after him.  My home is not a stakeout!  I later learned his his ex-wife was also after him for child support payments.

By now, I had already received my first cochlear implant.  How about the guy who wanted to know if my hearing would get worse?  I told him I did not come with a warranty.  Besides, he had a life-threatening illness.  What if I asked him about that?  Wouldn’t it be rude? Truth is, my hearing DID get worse.  I now wear two cochlear implants.  So what?

Now this really gets good, or bad might be a better word.  I met this guy who was widowed like me.  Had two kids.  Brought me flowers. Not one dozen, but two dozen on the first date.  Took me to the top of the Rock and on a dinner cruise around Manhattan in the same day.  Took me on a helicopter ride around Manhattan another day and to see the Rockettes perform the Christmas show.  We ate in the best of restaurants and had a lot of fun together.  And then he planned a picnic upstate because I mentioned loving to photograph cows.  But he got into foul moods sometimes without explanation.  He was a no-show for New Year’s eve, and he told me he punched the TV when he found out the diagnosis of his new dog was “deaf.”  I said, “The dog is dead?,” when he called me on the phone.  He said no, “THE DOG IS DEAF!”  So now he had a deaf dog and and a deaf girlfriend.  So his behavior prompted me to do a Google search on him.  It turned out he had a long history of drug and alcohol abuse, and he had an arrest for driving down the street the wrong way in another state under the influence.  He didn’t drink or show evidence of drugs when he was with me, except the moods.  But I attributed it to the grief that comes when we have lost a spouse.  When I read about his abuse and knew how I trusted him, my whole body shook.  I had to sit down and process it.  Although he was of Russian/Jewish heritage, he put down on the record I found on Google that he was Cambodian.  He must have been flying high!

Then there was the profoundly religious man 10 years my junior who loved my silver tresses.  He would call me on the phone at night when he got out of work and talk to me, — for four hours on average.  We talked about life.  About God.  He quoted Biblical passages.  He even told me after his marriage failed he was considering converting to Episcopalian to become a priest.   He opened doors, paid for everything, and I even invited him to meet my children on Christmas eve.  Then he started acting weird.  So, once again this prompted me to do a Google search on him, which I should have done in the first place.  Trust is earned.  Well, not only did he already have another girlfriend when he met me, but she created a blog warning other women to stay away from him.  This woman never knew I existed, but if I ever met her I would have thanked her for not letting me get into this any deeper.

Some of the funniest experiences I have had have been through online dating.  Men lie about their age.  When you meet them in person, they don’t look anything like their picture.  I never went out with anyone who didn’t post a picture.  Show your face if you have nothing to hide.  Then there is the type who has no picture, no profile information but just messages you with a phone number.  Huh?  What is there to love about someone who won’t be transparent?  Then there is the type that posts a profile like it is a resume listing all their accomplishments since the Beatles came to town, letting us know they were at Woodstock and that everyone thinks they are really perhaps 35 or 40. Right!

At the end of my work life, I was an adjunct professor of English.  I taught writing and research courses, and I found myself mentally marking up online profiles with that little red pen in my head.  If you are going to lie, use spellcheck!

Here are some examples:

“I went to collage.”

“I am a docter.”

“I like feminine woman who wear colon.”

Then there is the actual meeting.  One guy I was suppose to meet at Panera Bread for coffee, suddenly stepped out from a hidden doorway when he saw me.  Was he going to slip away if he didn’t like what he saw?

Also,  there was the guy who posted a profile picture about 20 years old that looked like he escaped from a nursing home when we met.  He told me he was from Poland, and that I should know his story was like that of Dr. Zhivago, leaving a wife behind that he later divorced. That he was involved in testing behavior modification in a joint project with the United States.  He claimed he escaped the former Soviet Union and the iron curtain.  History gave away his age.  For a man with a doctorate, if he was going to be a liar, he should at least have a good memory.  It was actually very nice to talk to someone smart. But no thanks.

As far as ethnicity is concerned, the beauty of this age is that we are not out to impress anyone or satisfy their limitations.  We date whomever we wish to date, and many of us care more about mutual values than background.  Diversity can only enrich our experience.  To each his own, but a dedicated, loving partner trumps differences.

I have since given up on online dating, although I know some who have had good experiences.  But I haven’t given up on love.  They say you will meet someone when you least expect it.  It’s always nice to have a partner.  That is the highest compliment you can pay your partner who has passed because it means they gave you a wonderful example of what love SHOULD be.

In the meantime, someday if my husband and I do meet again in the hereafter, I have some funny stories to tell him.

 

 

 

Happy International Cochlear Implant Day!

Things I Will Never Take For Granted

20150617_110420
Ocean Waves Crashing at Block Island 2015
img_8640
A Seagull at Montauk 2015

img_3033
Conch Shell Simulating the Sound of the Ocean

 

img_3034-2
My Kanso Processor that turns me into a hearing person.  Poof!!!!!

A trip down to the shore just to listen to the waves crashing

Seagulls gliding through a blue sky, singing in their own unique language

Being able to hear the words, “I love you”

Walking through the woods and hearing the chatter of all the tiny critters and nature at its best

Celebrating a birthday and being able to hear the people I love sing the birthday song

Crickets singing their slumber song after a weary day

The heartbeat of the people and puppies I love

The intonation and emotion in someone’s voice and words

That clinking sound of two glasses and the words “cheers”

Doing my happy dance around the kitchen table to the tunes of my youth

Being able to hear the words “everything will be alright”

Hearing Auld Lang Syne at the stroke of midnight and knowing the world is rejoicing in the birth of a new year with me

Being able to talk on the phone and laugh and cry about life with friends and family

Being able to talk to my three-year-old grandson, and each of us being able to know and love each other through words

Just being part of the world around me and using all of my senses

How could the day go by without acknowledging the work of Graeme Clark who developed the “Bionic Ear”  and Chief Scientist,  Jim Patrick of Cochlear Corporation www.cochlear.com?  All these wonderful sounds would never be possible for me without their hard work and dedication to our cause.

 

 

Reflections On Being Deaf, Gray and Italian on the “eve” of my 70th birthday

Do you ever look at someone and try to imagine who they were as a child or as a young adult?

img_1465

Each of us has a story, with many chapters.  In a few weeks I will celebrate my 70th birthday.  For many of us, there are many versions of our “self” that include a younger version and the one that will always be in our minds.   But time does pass, and the older I get the more I realize how important time is.  Use it wisely.  It is the ultimate gift each of us is given.

  • fullsizerender
    New Rochelle High School Yearbook 1965

    img_1438
    I think I was 18 in this picture.

On being deaf- If someone had told me in my youth that I would someday be totally deaf, I don’t know how well I would have handled it.  Over the years, I have struggled with this slow progression towards silence and the mindsets society has placed upon those of us who have trouble communicating with the mainstream.  Like most people with hearing loss, I have navigated my journey through rude store clerks, discrimination in the workplace and even jerky people who we thought were sensitive and above treating us like secondhand citizens.

But there is an upside to this experience for sure.  Strangely, I have experienced my greatest growth because of this experience.  Losing my hearing has made me more sensitive to the plight of those on the outskirts of society, it has humbled me and made me really think about what someone else’s journey may be like.  It has also made me determined to complete whatever goals I choose despite being deaf.

In the silence, I heard my own voice and I began to write and publish work.  In my upcoming book, Living In The Color Magenta, I compare going deaf to  smothering and drowning.  That is what it always felt like to me. Going down, no one hearing you and having no voice.  I have said it before, and I will say it again.  If it weren’t for the Hearing Loss Association of America www.hearingloss.org over the last more than 25 years, I don’t know how well I would have fared.  This organization gives people like me a place to go to advocate and share with others in our journey.  Hearing loss is isolating, and like many others I have tremendous respect and gratitude for their work.  This organization and the love of my family gave me courage when I really needed it. We need to always pay it forward.

I am very lucky to be living in an era where there is something called a cochlear implant.  Helen Keller, Thomas Edision, Beethoven and so many others were not.  Almost every week someone approaches me and asks me about this miraculous operation.  I can wake up deaf, and put on my implants and be part of the hearing world.  For this, I will always be grateful.

1012 About gray (grey) hair-I remember finding my first gray hairs when I was 26 years old and pregnant with my first child.  I was mortified.  How could I already have grays?  My hair was very dark brown, and I was still wearing a “Cher” hairdo with bangs and long dark tresses.  The steely grays really stood out.  Over the next 40 years, I went from dark brown to light brown, auburn, blonde and platinum.  One day after being sick and not being able to make it to the colorist, I examined my shimmery grays showing through at the part and I just said, “I’m not doing this anymore.”  I kind of liked that my natural pearly shade matches best with my dark Italian coloring, and it was very liberating to accept my new look and older self.  

To each his own.  I see many women ditching the bottle and feeling confident enough to be  comfortable with their changing looks.  Even my colorist told me in recent years, “You actually look younger with your own natural hair color, even though I lost a customer.”  I appreciated that.

But growing older is about so much more than gray hair.  Time is passing and we are becoming older and more vulnerable.  There’s a greater chance for serious illness or a fall.  That sometimes  scares me.  We lose lots of people we care for and love. These losses are profound.

I have always tried to be there for my children.  I think every parent always feels they want to help their children if there is a crisis for as long as they live.  But somewhere along the way, the tables turn and our kids become our strength.  It’s beautiful to have wonderful children,  but kind of shocking to witness this shift.

On being Italian- I will always be grateful for my strong Italian roots.  Being the daughter of an immigrant parent allowed me to understand the plight of so many generations who have come to the U.S.  My parents gave us a strong Christian faith, my Italian-born father’s love of opera and his garden were inspiring.  My mother’s binding efforts to give us a traditional, strong family life complete with ethnic foods and rituals.  Christmas, Easter Sunday, faith hope and patriotism… all of these were true gifts.

img_1464
Mom with all seven of her children
20141213_103149-2
Mom making her famous lasagne
img_1362
With my parents, five of my six sisters and brothers
img_0479
Easter Sunday
img_0202
With 3 of my 4 sisters a few years ago celebrating St. Patrick’s Day

A few more observations-

Sometimes I can still hear my mother’s voice– At this stage of my life, I look so much like my mother, I almost expect her to answer back when I look in the mirror.  My mother made it through some pretty tough stuff.  As a child, I always felt she was so strong it was almost intimidating.  But somehow, that shy little girl I used to be inherited some of her resilience.  I am grateful for that gift.  I recently was hospitalized after a fall and in serious condition.  As I looked up and saw IV attached to one arm, a nurse taking blood from the other, while one nurse waited to take my temperature and blood pressure, I heard words like sepsis, 104 fever, put her in cardiac care, etc.  Was my life in danger?  How would my mother handle this?  Suddenly, I could hear her firm voice speaking to the grim reaper saying, “I’m not going anywhere!”  So I repeated that phrase in my mind and it gave me courage. I’ve had these moments before, andI suspect I will have them again.

On fathers and daughters- Fathers definitely have a lot to do with how a woman will see herself as worthy and lovable.  I was lucky to have a father that instilled that in me and a good husband who gave that gift to his daughters.

img_1658

On being in love- I’m glad that I have loved and been loved.  Even though it hurts like hell when you lose someone, it is an experience to not be missed.  It is one of the greatest gifts in life. No one can ever take that away from you.

Family- It’s all that matters.  Period.  So glad my daughters are not just sisters, but they have always been best friends.

2015-10-06-12-20-35
Birthday parties

 

2015-08-22-09-12-40
Vacationing in Sag Harbor 2015

img_0413     img_1330

On being a grandma- There is nothing like it!  Love this little boy.  I want to watch my grandson grow taller than me, watch him fall in love for the first time, hear his stories and keep that special connection we have forever.

IMG959381 img_1611

On dogs- they really are nicer than people 🙂

img_1469

Time-  It all comes down to time well spent.  How have you spent your time today?  My kids told me they are holding me to living to 100 years old, and that’s 30 more years of good living for this deaf, gray and Italian lady.  I’m sure there will be many more life lessons.  I’m ready.

 

Happy Birthday to me!   Cheers!

 

img_0508

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s To A New Season…

IMG9529912015-01-21

Post surgery and on my birthday two years ago.  I’m looking forward to special chats with my grandson.

 

So here it is 11 days post cochlear implantation surgery in my left ear.   My right ear was implanted in 2005 and has been my only source of intelligible sound for a few years now.

What a lot of people don’t realize is that when the device is off, the recipient defaults to a status of profoundly deaf.  It’s really amazing to think that this tiny device implanted under the skull can reconnect someone to the world around them.  I thought about that a lot the week before my surgery and found myself feeling a tremendous amount of gratitude and a little weepy.  That my surgeon told me he thinks I will probably even benefit more from this surgery than the first one gives me the same goosebumps I felt when I received what Santa promised to deliver on Christmas morning as a child.

The days preceding surgery I spent time with my sister Stephanie in California visiting family.  It was a special time with lunches at my nephew’s outdoor picnic table, lots of laughs with her grandson Antonio, a visit to Hollywood, time catching up with a cousin I haven’t seen since I was about five years old and taking some time to discover L.A.  I also enjoyed sitting on the porch and watching the monarch butterflies, the hummingbirds and a California fall day at its best.  But one of the most profound moments for me was walking down the street with my sister and her reaching for my hand, just like we did back in the days when we walked to Washington Elementary School.  Sometimes the greatest messages take place in silence.

Before long, it was time for us to take our red-eye flight back east, and the following day I packed another bag to stay over my daughter Melissa’s house in NYC the night before surgery.  An amazing professional chef, she asked me what I would like to eat the night before surgery.  I told her something simple.

After  Melissa, Lou and the baby greeted me at the door with smooches, I sat down at her dining room table, and we enjoyed a pasta dish, no kidding, — in the shape of tiny ears.  It was a dish that contained shrimp and escarole, one of my favorite vegetables.  My family’s presence was calming.  Somehow even the dog seemed to sense something big was about to happen.

The next morning we took a cab uptown to NYU Medical Center Ambulatory Care.  Traffic was horrendous.   But once we got there, we met my daughter Valerie and all three of us waited for the nurse to call me in.  My daughter Valerie reminded me if I had trouble communicating,  just call them in.

So the nurse asked me if I was nervous.  Nope.  She asked me all those questions they repeat over and over to make sure they have the right person.  She asked if it was my left ear they were operating on.  She asked why I was here today.  The correct answer was to have a cochlear implant, but I couldn’t help throwing in there that I was anxious to have a purpose for that ear besides hanging an earring.

The nurse asked me again if I was nervous.  Nope.  At that point I just told her give me the juice and send me to that happy place and wake me when it’s over.  That surprised my kids because I don’t like to take medication.  But they broke out in laughter.

The nurse walked me down the hall and instructed me to go into Room 4 with her.  Ah, I get Suite 4 I joked.  The celebration was about to take place.  Everyone seemed in good spirits as I was told to take a deep breath and I said a silent prayer looking up at the lights,  asking my deceased husband to ask God to watch over me.

Next thing I knew, I woke up with a thick gauze “headband” bandage across my head.  I looked like I just completed a tennis match.  At first I thought I was back in L.A., but soon realized the operation was over.  My first thought was, “That’s all?”  I felt very little pain.  I had very little swelling.  I didn’t have the vertigo I had the first time.  Very little. I was shooting questions to my kids and the doctor.  I asked my kids to take a picture of me to remember the day.

I went back to my daughter Melissa’s house and shared a meal again with family.  Greek chicken soup and a lentil dish.  Melissa insisted on spoon feeding me.  What a reversed role from the past. But it was nice.  I slept in a chair (for comfort) and Liffey, their dog, stayed at my feet the whole time.  If I moved an inch, he moved an inch closer.

Valerie came home with me for 2 days and nurtured me and watched I didn’t try to do anything I wasn’t suppose to do.  I snore like a locomotive, but she never complained.  When she left, I found a card on the table expressing how proud she is of me, and letting me know we will always find a way to communicate.

My sister Stephanie came for a day and then Lucille.  Friends called to ask if I need anything.  I really can’t say I’ve had a hard time, and if this gives anyone courage to go through with this, that makes me happy.

My device will be turned on December 2, the same day the tree will be lit at Rockefeller Center.  Can’t wait to play with all those toys Cochlear Corporation gives their recipients to help hear on the phone, in restaurants and other settings.

The tree has always had significance to me because when I was a child, my mother would put all 7 of her children on the train to see the tree.  Then we would go to St. Patrick’s Cathedral and light a candle, sometimes go see the Rockettes at Radio City and get a sandwich at one of those Horn and Hardart automats.  Each of us would get one of those little plastic souvenirs you shake and it appears to snow on a tiny village.  That was the beginning of the season for us.

So on December 2  after my appointment I will stay in the City for a bit and enjoy all the sounds and sights of the season. I just may go to St. Patrick’s Cathedral and light a candle in remembrance of my mother and how she made the season magical, — and gratitude to my family and friends for always being there for me.