Not through somebody giving a speech about how much the family loved her.
She wanted to tell people what she’d actually been experiencing.
And she wanted me to interpret.
“I don’t want anyone guessing what I mean,” she signed.
I promised I would help.
The party was held beneath a large white tent on the lawn of Ben’s family home.
There were nearly a hundred guests.
White roses stood on every table, a string quartet played, and a photographer moved between the guests taking pictures.
Patricia had even invited a reporter from the county newspaper.
She’d spent weeks planning everything.
Evelyn was seated near the front in a lavender dress, her white hair neatly arranged.
I sat with Ben.
He was smiling, enjoying the party, completely unaware of what his grandmother and I had discussed.
Eventually, Patricia stood to make a speech.
She spoke about Evelyn’s long life, her devotion to family, and everything she’d done for her children and grandchildren.
Then Patricia told the guests how important it had been to welcome her mother into their home.
“Mother has always been the heart of this family,” she said.
Everyone applauded.
I looked at Evelyn.
She was watching Patricia.
I wondered how much of the speech she’d actually been able to follow.
After the applause, Patricia lifted her champagne glass.
“Would anyone else like to say a few words for Mother?”
I stood.
Ben looked surprised.
“Nora?”
I squeezed his hand and walked toward the front.
Patricia watched me with a polite expression that didn’t quite hide her annoyance.
I didn’t take the microphone.
Instead, I walked directly to Evelyn and positioned myself where she could see my face and hands.
Then I began signing.
“Happy birthday, Evelyn.
Thank you for being my friend.”
Evelyn smiled.
I continued.
“I grew up with two deaf parents.
Sign language was my first language.”