How to get along with your parents when they lose their hearing so you won’t lose your mind

Dad handed me a brochure.
“Improving communication with the hearing impaired,” I read the title out loud. “This isn’t going to suggest I watch Wheel of Fortune so we have something to talk about during happy hour, is it?”
“My doctor said I should let the family read it.” He tapped his ears. “I have mild hearing loss in my right ear and moderate loss in my left.”
“That explains your interest in Ronnie Milsap.” I looked at the document and skimmed through the list of tips.
I understand this list, written by qualified physicians, is designed to help. They obviously want their patients and patients’ families to get through dinner without killing anyone.
But it doesn’t go nearly as far as it should. As the oldest daughter of a couple who can’t hear anything unless it’s shouted into a microphone and blasted through speakers in surround sound, I am reprinting their suggestions here with my additions in bold.
This is how you improve communication with people who hear just fine down at the Legion, but not during dinner with six relatives who talk at the same time while Law & Order is on.
1. Get the attention of the hearing impaired person before you speak. Grab his remote control. That ought to do it. If you want my mom’s attention, make marinara sauce in the “pasta” pot while boiling tortellini in the “tomato” pot. This is more effective than cursing. But you might want to have a defibrillator close by.
2. Do not shout; shouting distorts your voice. Besides, they’ll still ignore you. Try not to tap them on the shoulder or poke them in the belly either. Senior citizens have died this way. Especially while napping during the rosary show on EWTN.
3. Speak just a little slower. Do not speak fast. This means you can forget about lengthy anecdotes, in-depth political analyses, and plot-line discussions of anything longer than a television episode. Seriously. You lost them at the fourteenth “And then.”
4. Come within a distance of 3 to 7 feet from the listener. The more hard-of-hearing the person, the closer proximity may be needed. Hopefully you don’t mind the smell of Ben-gay, Old Spice and garlic.
5. The listener should be able to see your face clearly as you speak. That way she can constantly remind you to stop wrinkling your forehead because “why look the part?”
6. Speak clearly; do not exaggerate mouth and lip movements. They will think you are mocking them. Trust me.
7. Do not cover your mouth, chew, or turn away while speaking. Dad will accuse you of talking about him, like the Vietnamese where he drops off his dry cleaning.
8. Rephrase, rather than repeat the exact same words. Adults are, in many ways, a lot like kids. If they hear the same things over and again, they tune out. Instead of asking them for the 900th time to close every goddamn cupboard in the kitchen before they put an eye out, threaten litigation. It works.
9. Reduce the background noise while speaking. Send your kids to bed. Get some oil for that squeaking ceiling fan. Turn off the three televisions and two iPods they’ve forgotten about. Maybe then you can get a word in edgewise.
10. Write the message, or key words, for better understanding. I don’t agree with this one. Five minutes spent squinting at whatever you wrote and another ten trying to find eyeglasses just to read it? Doesn’t seem worth it. What hemorrhoid cream do they recommend? Google that shit. It’s quicker.
11. Hearing impaired persons may not hear and understand as well when tired, ill, or lying down. No kidding. That cuts into most of their day. For meaningful conversation, get them at 5am, after the coffee hits but before they begin the crossword puzzle. Otherwise, you can forget about it.
12. Be patient with the hearing impaired person. Dad suggests everyone read this several times. He’s right. Especially after we all get on Skype with out-of-town relatives. No matter how many times we explain modern technology, my parents still believe shouting is acceptable because my brother is, after all, in Philadelphia.
13. Ask the hearing impaired person if he/she can hear and understand you; if not, ask what you could do to improve communication. Then sit down and prepare yourself for a lecture about gratitude and how a trip to mass every once in a while wouldn’t hurt.
14. Ask the hearing impaired person to repeat what he/she heard; this is important to confirm that the message was understood. This will remind everyone of family therapy sessions in the 80s when no one could deal with your hair or blue eyeshadow. Worked about as well back then.
15. Be aware that a person with a hearing aid continues to benefit from all the above suggestions. You’ll just have to live with high-pitched tones that hurt your teeth and cause every dog in the neighborhood to howl or moan.
Dad isn’t the only one with helpful doctors. Mom just got instructions on how to help her feet. She purchased expensive sneakers and one doctor recommended a strengthening exercise with a belt before she gets out of bed each morning.
“So if you see a belt around my bedpost, don’t get the wrong idea,” she said, in Carrabba’s, way louder than the law allows. “That belt is helping me walk without a limp. We aren’t doing anything kinky or perverted with it.”
Then she asked the waiter to do something about the light because who can read this menu in the dark with aging eyes?
Great. I can’t wait for that list.








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So glad you posted this. I can certainly relate. My Mom and Dad both wear hearing aids (in their early 70′s) but I’m a bit more sypathetic than you, my friend. You helped Julie at a deaf camp, did you not? Learned sign language and helped you appreciate the hard of hearing?
In defense of your parents:
You’ve lived in the south your entire life. Why do you have such a distain for country music? You are SOOO outnumbered. Confederate flags are only eye candy now and a distinct reminder of when they were (kinda) in control. The true southern blood comes their from music and Baptist churches. Believe you me, the Baptists’ control everything south of the Maosn Dixon so you better start getting along if you want any gigs.
If they hear the squeaking ceiling fan to the point of annoyance, they CAN hear but are are ignoring you OR they are picking up sattelite frequencies from NASA. I’m going with ignoring you. lol.
“Google”? Serious? These people were born in the 1940′s. A new house back then cost less than my last computer. My step-dad still thinks the internet is “magic” and spawned from the Devil himself. I would disagree but. . . .
Tells you to go to Massachusetts? For GOD’s sake, go back – at least for a visit. You always told me Boston was the one place in this world you felt relaxed and motivated. So go be relaxed and motivated, goddammitt. It really wouldn’t hurt.
“I don’t agree with this one. Five minutes spent squinting at whatever you wrote and another ten trying to find eyeglasses just to read it?” . . .
I have “readers” too. They get lost all the time. God forbid I go to a restaurant without them. Ever try eating a meal without being able to see what’s on front of you? OR trying to hear what everyone is telling you what’s on your plate? It’s fucking mortifying and embarassing. So while you’re kids laugh, you sit there. Wondering what the fuck happened to your youth and cramming in a baked potato you thought was corn.
I’m sure the last thing during Vietnam was blue eyeshadow.
They’re lucky they still HAVE teeth.
At least they still have the belt around thier bedpost no matter how well they played that off. lol – No need for glasses or hearing aids for that. Just pure, simple, blinded and deaf love.
Keep on, keepin’ on, Ron and Noreen.
Love ya Cat! You can move in any time and bring your man!
Hold on Ron. Need to find my readers.