Stoic: accepting pains or hardships calmly or without complaint; not feeling or showing emotion.

I wrote a poem called “How Could You Not Know?” that came from my feelings regarding my hearing loss and music, particularly at family gatherings. I grew up in a musical family and until I was 17 I sang in choirs at church and school. It was at that point that my hearing loss became noticeable and affected what I could hear of my own voice while singing with a group, so I stopped singing in choir and group situations.

Often at family gatherings after the meal, family members that played guitar or violin would take out their instruments and begin playing and singing. Because of my hearing loss, I never attempted to join in and over time it became increasingly difficult to enjoy listening to the music. I suppose at first I was frustrated for the reason that I felt I couldn’t participate because of my impaired hearing. And there was jealousy of those who could and did. Later, when I had hearing aids it stopped sounding good, so it became my habit to simply slip away into some corner, visit with somebody who didn’t care about the music, and ignore the entertainment.

After I wrote the poem, “How Could You Not Know?” I printed a copy and sent it with a letter to my parents. When my mother and I talked about it, I was a bit taken aback when she said, “I didn’t know music was that important to you.” In my surprise, I did not respond, but simply changed the subject. I felt a little hurt, she is my mother – how could she not know?

I decided to give my feelings some time and thought. Later that day, I found I was seriously looking for an answer to that question. How was it that my mother did not know how I felt? And I realized I didn’t tell her. I didn’t show my feelings to her or very many others for that matter. I had been stoic where my hearing loss was concerned.

I denied my hearing loss in other ways as well and put on a rather good show. If someone told a joke and I missed the punch line, I often laughed when everyone else laughed instead of admitting that I didn’t hear it. I smiled and nodded and mimicked their emotion and I got away with it most of the time. What else could I do? I couldn’t run around being sad and angry all the time. And nobody wants to be the downer at a good party.

When you have experienced bringing a happy group down, you stop doing what it was that you did. You stop participating in group games where missing an answer might lose one for the team and simply excuse yourself to refill your drink or get another snack. If you can’t participate or share in the happy fellowship, you slip away quietly to a corner or go home. Happy gatherings are not the place where you show your hardships. So how would anybody know how I felt if I was masking my emotions with a ready smile – being stoic?

I used to tell my girls when they were growing up, “If you don’t tell me what is wrong, I can’t find a way to help.” Sometimes it is hard to tell, hard to find a way. Or you think, why talk about it, they can’t do anything anyway. What would it have mattered if my family knew how hard it was for me to watch them enjoying their music? I certainly didn’t want them to stop. I didn’t want to take away their joy, so I was stoic.

All of that is fading into the past now as I enjoy listening to music again with my cochlear implants. I’m still having a hard time joining in with the family music. It feels like I’m expected to listen and enjoy when my heart really wants to sing, but I don’t yet have the confidence that I can match my voice with the notes. I missed out for so many years, it’s not like I can jump right in.

Writing poetry is my music.

It makes it so I can let my feelings show
It picks me up when I’m feeling low
It makes my world feel alright
It comforts me at night

It releases me from an emotional hold
It allows me to lighten that load
It makes my world happy and bright
It brings me sunshine and moonlight

It puts some things away for me
It allows me freedom to see
It releases me from all that’s past
It moves me on, I’m free at last.