by Sinta Jimenez

Welly had asked herself the question a number of times in her life, turning

it over in her mind like a coin in her palm. Lots of people expected that she would

have an exact answer of the exact moment she lost her hearing but it was subtler

than that. A bird outside her window, more silent than the day before. A gradually

muffled school bell. Listening to her mother saying goodnight with a voice as

though she were under water. Like outgrowing last year’s loafers it was natural and

a little melancholy but nothing anyone cried over, just part of her growing up. By

the time she was six she was completely deaf.

Welly continued to be able to speak, a remnant from the days she could still

hear though her voice had a muffled sound, like a conversation under the covers,

the syllables melted in a crescent of wool as they came out of her mouth. Even

with the continued use of speech the change of her voice reflected her slackened

acoustic nerve. Though Welly and Lara both learned sign language and used

notepads, Lara encouraged her to keep speaking as often as she could. A life skill,

like riding a bike or swimming, it was important Welly held onto what she could.

In case of emergency or just to have as another option. Being a single mother Lara

emphasized the importance of self-sufficiency and disaster preparedness. Welly’s

parents separated when she was one and he died shortly after.


4 thoughts on “Welly

  1. Pingback: Writings Recently, 11/17, and Holiday Fun « Hail to the Chic

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