“You’re a good girl, you’re a wonderful sister, and you’re a sweetheart of a child.”

I bestowed this valedictory benediction on Maddie, my daughter, for years.  Gender specific, relationship specific, and then universal — girl, sister, child.

Maddie turned 15 yesterday, and time for me to sing her praises, not exclusively but especially as a sibling of a deaf brother.

At her birth, Ben had not yet lost his hearing to EVA, but would during 1995, within Maddie’s first year on earth.  But by the time Maddie was cognizant, she was bound to deafness — as part of our family, as part of her life experience, as part of her relationship with Ben, her older sibling.

I cannot recall each instance, it is so woven into our family, but many a time we must have told Maddie to tap or touch Ben, to get his attention, so we could cue to him.  We must have told Maddie to speak directly to Ben, face to face, so he could see her lips and expression.  We must have told Maddie to wait to talk, as Ben did not have his hearing aids or (later) his cochlear processor on.  We must have spoken and explained and elaborated upon an idea or theme to Ben — “red light,” which means we have to stop; “green light,” now we can go — with Maddie as captive audience, getting the repetition and explanation.  We turned on the captions of the TV, and have watched all videos and television for years with captions on, Maddie watching along with us. We attended open captioned movies, Maddie with Ben and me.

After the divorce, when we three traveled together, Maddie’s role was the more responsible back-up, based on her hearing.  Whether in New York, San Francisco, Toronto, Buenos Aires, or London, she was my assistant, aiding me in relaying information via cueing to Ben.

In the meantime, she got into and succeeded wonderfully in the Spanish immersion program, and is effectively fluent in Spanish (and of course American English).  She learned Cued Speech completely and fluently when she was six, joining the family at the Cue Camp Friendship many times, a teacher aide the last few camps.  She has learned to finger spell and knows some signs, and has joined Ben in the Deaf Access theatre troupe based in Bethesda, Maryland.  She reads broadly and above level.  She is dramatic and occasionally too sassy. She is an excellent athlete, making the junior varsity field hockey and basketball teams as a high school freshman.  She is poised and sensitive.  She is an all-American girl. She is Nancy Drew come to life!

Her relationship with Ben is sweet.  They have sibling friction, of course, but have a special love and kindness to each other.  They are physically and emotionally affectionate with each other.  They gang up on me, mocking and laughing at my ways, my goofiness.  On our travels, they have joined together as a unit, allowing me (and them!) some individual travel experience.  Because Maddie can cue, and can hear, I feel safe leaving Ben in Maddie’s care, while Maddie is in Ben’s care for purposes of protection and physical safety.

For me, luck permitted me to have a baby girl, to parent both genders in our two-gender species.  And with Maddie, fate permitted me the wondrous experience of parenting a deaf and a hearing child.  I have a unique angle on similarities and differences of boys and girls, of deaf and hearing children, of Ben and Maddie.  She provides contrast with Ben, making both better.  The contrast, boy and girl, deaf and hearing, inspires me to be a better parent, a better man.

With the divorce, Maddie has taken on the role of hostess, providing some of the warmth and graciousness that women bring to social gatherings.  As I have learned to cook and we have expanded our socializing, all three of us have improved our skills as hosts; Maddie has blossomed  as sous chef, Ben as front-of-the-house host and drinks man.  In all our adventures, she sparkles.  The theme of dads and their daughters, always prevalent in literature and life, applies equally to us.  The essence of the feminine in a baby girl, its charms and beauty, is transcendent.  And there is nothing like having some female think you are a hero; very good for us dads and our egos!

Deafness is a part of our lives; deafness is part of Maddie’s life, even though she hears.  Ben, her older sibling, is deaf. Ben uses Cued Speech, Ben has a cochlear implant.  Maddie knows how to cue; Maddie knows about batteries and infrastructure of a cochlear implant.  Maddie is hearing, but she hangs with the deaf, at the theatre or in our social events. She signs some, cues proficiently, speaks and reads well, speaks and understands a foreign language, is a scholar and athlete.

My valediction, spoken so many nights as I tucked her in, has come to pass.  Through love, effort, innate talent, luck, and lots of outside assistance, Maddie fulfilled the benediction. She is a great girl, a fantastic sister, and an elegant and delightful child.  Happy birthday to my favorite girl in all the world.  Happy birthday, Maddie!

Maddie Osborne