Of all my handicaps, not being able to speak clearly is the worst one. It isolates me the most. People are afraid to constantly ask me what I said, but their vague reactions usually tell me that they didn’t fully understand what I said. What would someone even have to say to me? Problems like these usually arise between me and acquaintances, less so with friends. The uncomfortableness on both ends makes me even more withdrawn. It used to be contact like this that used to give me life. And I love gossip, so how will I stay informed?
June 1999
My desire to talk is fading and going to the tea parlour every day is starting to lose its edge. I think visiting the parlour should at least be amusing to me and sometimes amusement is completely absent. I like losing myself in thought or taking in my surroundings, especially my gorgeous garden. Am I withdrawing from the rest of the world? People talk to me a lot less, kids and friends alike. That’s what happens when responses are few and far between. One becomes less of a presence. I don’t know what to think about it, but I want to be there for my kids. It’s almost Ward’s birthday, which is luckily making him a lot more chatty. The boy is having a field day with it.
August 1999
Ward and Floor had a tennis tourney. We went to see it with the whole family. I hadn’t realised that so many of my neighbours would be present, otherwise I would have been a lot more anxious beforehand. Again, speech is a big handicap. It makes me afraid of confrontation, I’d rather avoid them. It went better than expected, this time. It was very pleasant. With Hein by my side as my translator, things went swimmingly. Partly because it wasn’t a huge event. You’re never too old to learn. The next day me and Ward went scootering through the park. We zipped along the walking paths, followed by amused gazes from onlookers. We even ran into someone with whom we had a little “chat”.