Seeing Voices

From the source: Helen Keller speaking to a large crowd in Fukuoka, Japan in 1948. Keller is on the far right with Takeo Iwahashi and Polly Thomson beside her.

I wrote in a previous post about the summer of 2017, and what a beautiful and challenging experience it was. I might have added that just about every preconception I had about that long-anticipated summer was mistaken. What I'd thought would be hard proved easy, and vice versa. The high points I anticipated didn't fall flat, but were not the standouts I'd expected. The people I thought I'd show things mostly showed things to me instead. And, most startling, Dácil.

I knew about Dácil, of course. I'd met her, indeed, I'd been around for her birth and for the harrowing experiences that followed thereafter. I'd read about her development since then (and you can too). But really, I had no idea, or rather the ideas I did have were mostly misconceptions. Meeting her in person and the reading I've done since...well, I'm fascinated, and changed.

For those who didn't bounce out to the first hotlink, Dácil is an eight-year-old girl, daughter of dear friends, who is deaf and blind and in other ways developmentally different. Stunted in some ways, certainly, but turns out that's an overly simplistic summary and one that quite misses the point. I had assumed Dácil would be a burden to her and my family as we traveled up and down the state, visiting beaches and mountains alike impassable to someone who can barely walk. California is a land of stunning views; Dácil can only just perceive the difference between dark and light. She cannot ride a bicycle, she cannot be reassured that a long car ride will be worth it. As a parent who often bemoans the loss of freedom my two fully functional children impose, and who takes his opportunities to leave them behind now and then, well, to me the obvious thing for our visitors to have done was to leave Dácil at home.

I'm so glad they didn't, because Dácil, I suspect, appreciated what we had to share at least as much as any of our many other visitors. The sublime view of Mt. Tam from our local pool was invisible to her, but it was likewise ignored by every other child and most adults, where Dácil enjoyed the water at least as much as anyone else. I gave a boombox to both visiting families; Dácil, though almost entirely deaf, was the one who made most use of this gift, and who most appreciated my excellent electronica. Robbed of distance senses, Dácil, I believe, tasted California more vividly even than her pizza and ice cream loving sibling; certainly she lingered longer over her meals.

Dácil was a presence, mostly off in her own world, pursuing her own pleasures, but her enjoyment was shared by all and added a lot to an already special summer. A reminder for me: other isn't necessarily less.

I survived the summer of '17

That was a very full summer. Travel to Amsterdam, Munich, Montreal, Seattle, the Sierras, and the north country. Visitors from Amsterdam, Tenerife, and Seattle in return, and that much understates things. A lot of time at the beach and in the water (usually unrelated activities, not so this summer!). A great deal of camping, some of it while in our own home. And for that home, too, a fair share of changes, with a new performance stage built down below, repainting and projects up above, and many hours of planning, perhaps even preparing, for the rains to come. Challenging, stressful, wonderful, beautiful, a summer none of us will ever forget.  Some photos here.

Betcha all that makes you want to visit, too, but consider what the photos do not show:

• It was not sunny all the time.
• Every one of these photos was separated by a 4-hour drive from every other photo, except where they were separated by a 14-hour plane flight.
• Some people slept in a barn.
• None of the water was really warm.  Often the air was too warm.  Also, sometimes, too cold.
• We ate sand.
• The supply of ice in the ice maker is not infinite and replenishes only slowly.
• There was a fair amount of screaming for a wide variety of reasons.
• Many people were dirty much of the time.
• There were tears.
• The eating of hot dog buns in the absence of hot dogs brought with it derision.
• Things are stupid expensive, including hot dog buns.
• You all got poison oak, even if you didn't know it.
• People fell from heights, though no one got hurt.
• Try as you might, you didn't eat all, or even the best, Scoop flavors.
• In the end, you had to say goodbye.

Whatever the fall brings, I promise to blog more often.