Hearing

Decades ago, The Husband had some damage to his ears.  He was working in an industrial area, near a humongous steam boiler, when the relief valve went off.  His hearing has steadily declined over the years.  We chuckle often at the things he thinks are said because he can't really hear very well.  (And yes, we've had his hearing checked numerous times over the years: the kind of damage he has is irreparable, hearing aids won't help.)  He rarely complains but will sometimes mention the constant background noise (an incessant shs-shs-shs-shs) that threatens to upset his normal cheerful demeanor (it makes him want to scream and tear out his hair!!).

I so love these ears!

I've become aware that my hearing is starting to fail.  Just a bit.  Just enough to notice.  Particularly when I'm tired.  I notice that same kind of background static-y whooshing.  Difficult to describe, but definitely there.

This last week when the company was here I noticed I had to ask them to repeat things often.  (Are people speaking less clearly these days?  Are they mumbling?  Or is it truly my ears?)

I've always been keenly aware of the blessing of our senses.  I've pondered the loss of my hearing. How would I manage?  Never to hear the sweet music of the world again.  Never to notice the robins/chickadees/meadowlarks on my morning walk.  Never to hear the wind or the rain.  Never to hear a loved one's voice.  Just the thought makes me feel bereft.

It also makes me want to listen more.  (There is a difference between hearing and listening.)  I have been known to bemoan the lack of listening in this world.  And I'm among the guilty.  I must learn to thoroughly enjoy the sounds (and the words) while I can.  And hope the actual loss of hearing is far far off in the distant clouds of time.

I think I'll go practice the piano.