Saturday, March 2, 2013


So my little brother is over six feet tall and I am just over five, but he will always be my little brother. Darren was born deaf. I remember when he came home from wherever adopted kids were picked up from that he had the biggest eyes I had ever seen. Those eyes would play a big part in his childhood. They were very expressive and always gave him away. So it was fairly early on when my mom realized he was not hearing properly. She contacted some people to gain further information. I remember hearing that the adoption agency offered to take him back - that is horrific. He was a keeper for sure. He was the cutest little boy with light brown super curly hair. He smiled all the time. I remember when he started learning to say "mom." It was amazing. My mom would hold his hand on her throat when she said it, then he would hold his hand to his own throat and try to get the same feeling. One night I bet he worked on it for hours - bomba, bomba, momba, momba, momma...that was an amazing night for sure. At first he went to a special school in Chesterton. A limo came and picked him up every day. He was pretty special! After a while though, he had to go away to the School for the Deaf in Indianapolis. He was gone every week and would come home on weekends. The bus would come to Merrillville and my mom would pick him up from there. That must have been really hard.

We learned sign language when we were little. It was really useful not only to talk to Darren but to talk across crowded rooms and about people when you didn't want them to know. We did that a lot. There were some really interesting times at our house with Darren, like hide and go seek. Darren would forget we could hear him breathe and laugh so when he would hide we would always find him. Most of the time we would let him see us looking and we would look right past him and he would laugh thinking we didn't see him. The tougher times were when we were in trouble. When my mom would be yelling, he would just close his eyes so he didn't have to listen to her signing (yep let it sink in). She could never sign as fast as she would yell and then when she would see his eyes closed she would be just irate. He got liquid soap too.

My "dad" never learned sign language so he never really communicated with Darren. I really don't remember him having any relationship with Darren until my parents got divorced and then Darren was used as a pon in a terrible game. Don took Darren once when he had visitation and wouldn't bring him back to my mom. I still remember that. If he had any hope of ever having or keeping a relationship with me, it ended that day. Who does that? Who takes a child from their mother in a power play? Well as you have learned by now, my mom doesn't put up with that shit and Don got what was coming to him.

When I went to college in Indianapolis, I would go get Darren from school and we would do things together. I would also go and do science experiments with the kids there kind of like science fair. You have never been in a more quiet environment. I would go to his football games. They would hike the ball by listening for the vibration from this huge drum someone beat on the sideline. They played their skinny little hearts out.

Many more experiences were had, too many to talk about. Darren now has 3 little perfect girls. Perfect in every way. He is so blessed.