From the silence of my night
I wake to morning light
I don’t begin to hear
Till my CI is on my ear
I sleep without sound
I can’t hear a barking hound
So my days begin
Not with an alarm’s din
But from the streaming light
Of a morning sky so bright
It reaches to my eyes
In the bed where my head lies
And wakes me
So that I might see
This day
Category: Poetry
Christmas Preparations
The Christmas lights keep blowing fuses
The house is a dusty mess
Even if I’m weary
I will not take any rest
I must power clean and decorate
The house is waiting for me
To give it shine and polish
And the glow of a Christmas tree
Christmas Day is coming
And I certainly won’t be bored
With lots of family here
To celebrate the birth of our Lord.
Young and old will gather
In the largest room
We will remember the birth of Jesus
This day is coming soon
So I begin my preparations
In anticipation of the fun
To celebrate His coming
The Truth, the Light, The One.
Thanksgiving
I have been trying for several days to put into words
The thankfulness I feel, for all that I have heard
The words keep escaping me
They never seem enough
So it seemed there was only one thing left
A picture of my cup.
Pots and Pans Band
We opened up our lake cabin Mother’s Day weekend. My daughter, son-in-law and two grandsons surprised us with a last minute decision to join us for the weekend. It was really great and we had a good time.
It was especially nice for Paul to have some help putting in the dock and the grandson’s desire to go for a boat ride was a great motivator to get the boats in the water and running. It was a wonderful start to what I hope will be a sunny and warm summer.
This first weekend though was a bit cool and kept the boys inside more. We don’t keep a lot of toys at the cabin, so it didn’t take long for the boys to start looking for new interests. I decided to pull out an old standby. The pots and pans band! I never would have done this when I was a hearing aid wearer. Hearing aids amplified the sound in such a way that some things were uncomfortable. The sound with my cochlear implants is so comfortably natural that I didn’t give the idea of the boys pounding away on pots and pans a second thought.
My daughter was a little puzzled when I said, “Isn’t it interesting how the different shapes of pans make such different sounds.” I reminded her there was a time when some sounds were all the same to me.
With wooden spoons in hand
The little boys tapped a pot then a pan
To their own rhythmless beat they did drum
Not yet a tune anyone could hum
But the joy of two boys and their make believe band playing the kitchen pots and pans!
Mentors
Smiles and laughter, voices strong
A room full of friends with a common bond
Relationships growing, new and old
Lives changing from quiet to bold
Brought together in life
Because of stories we share
Paying it forward because we care
A new hand needs holding
A tear has been shed
We reach out and answer
To concerns we have read
Comfort our goal and hope we bring
To the pain and sadness the voices ring
We know the hardships
And we have come through
So we offer our knowledge to those that are new
Raising each other
To new heights we soar
Because when you give
You get back even more
Yesterday I returned from a weekend training session for Bionic Ear Association mentors. It was held at the Advanced Bionics offices in Valencia, CA. Cochlear implant recipients along with parents of children with cochlear implants were brought together to learn more: about AB’s implants; the numbers of people with profound to severe hearing loss; and how we can educate and help others with hearing issues.
The weekend carried a lot of impact, touching me in many ways. There was the impact of meeting people in person that I had only met through the internet. It took a lot of hugging to get caught up! Then there was the impact of making new connections, all of them strong. In the trainings, the impact of the up-to-date statistics regarding hearing loss was eye-opening and being given tools to share more effectively was exciting. Visiting the plant where the cochlear implants are made had an impact all its own. I haven’t yet discovered a word to describe how it felt to be where they built the devices that allow me to hear.
It was a wonderful opportunity and I am grateful for the people I met and all that I learned. Now I hope to put old and new knowledge to good use mentoring others with hearing loss.
Not a Minute Too Soon
I can hear the ticking of the clock on the wall
I can hear your footsteps as you walk down the hall
I can hear the laughter of the children in their room
The sounds of life came back to me not a minute too soon
My sadness overwhelmed me as my ears began to die
I often asked the Lord, if He could tell me why
But then He showed me there was hope up ahead
And to a hearing miracle my heart and life were led
I sat alone in silence for a period of time
The Lord, He said to me, “There is no reason why
But the lessons you will learn, and the things that you will know
Will settle in your mind and make your heart grow”
So I waited for the Lord to show me the way
I trusted He would take me where my heart was meant to stay
He walked me from the silence and back to the sound
And here I am again, my life is being found
I can hear the ticking of the clock on the wall
I can hear your footsteps as you walk down the hall
I can hear the laughter of the children in their room
The sounds of life came back to me not a minute too soon
Moving on to the good…
Poetry helped me dump my sad feelings when I was losing my hearing. So did smoking. I used to blow my negative feelings away in a puff of smoke. I stopped that eight years ago. Poetry is healthier.
To read my writing, you would think I’m a glass-half-empty kind of person. Really I’m not. My mother once said that I was born with rose-colored glasses on. It is kind of like “the tears of a clown, when there is no one around.” I can write about my sadness, resentment and anger, but if you walk into the room I’m in, I will smile and enjoy your company exuding happiness and well wishes.
I love people. I used to be a cosmetologist. Making people feel good with a new haircut, or fresh color was a joy. I had a lot of children customers because I was so patient with them, their parents would bring them back to me. When I started to miss conversation with the children and I would see confusion on their faces, it broke my heart. I came to realize that they had said something I missed. Often and typical of a child, when I asked them what they had said, they wouldn’t bother to repeat it. The last thing I wanted to do was make a child feel insignificant.
My time as a cosmetologist was brief, about three years. My main career was being a mother to our three daughters. I have made a lot of shifts in my life, trying to adjust to my hearing situation. The changes were always made with a positive attitude.
One of the things I have discovered by sharing what I have written, is that I’m not alone with my feelings. People have shared with me that I helped them to discover what they were feeling when they were having trouble putting a name to it. I don’t want to bring people down. I want to buoy them up and leave them feeling good. But sometimes we have to allow ourselves to feel our sadness or anger so we can move on to the good.
Poems
Our local newspaper is starting to publish poetry, so I decided to look at some of my poems to see if I had anything that I want to send in. I realized that I had a couple that I had not posted on my blog that relate to hearing loss, so I thought I would post them.
What Will Be The Music?
In the early morning
When the sun is rising high
I can’t hear the birds sing
at that beautiful blue sky.
And when the leaves are falling softly
and settling on the ground
In the autumn of my life
I cannot hear the sound.
But my eyes take in the colors
and the beauty of the birds
And I search my mind for the memories
of everything I’ve heard.
For what will be the music
in the silence of my life?
Is it the soaring of the bird
in its beautiful soft flight?
Do The Birds Still Sing?
Do the birds still sing?
I cannot tell.
Do telephones ring?
I don’t hear the bell.
Do children sing?
I know they yell.
The sound is fading
and I’m not old.
Why does it go?
Nobody knows.
In the silence
what will I find?
A flower blooms
in quiet time.
Find the flower
for me to see,
Blooming quietly.
God help me
I am so scared.
I’m afraid I’ll forget
what I have heard.
In the silence will I know,
all the music I love so?
The voices of my caring friends,
will this all come to a silent end?
How Would You Know, My Feelings Didn’t Show
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.
How Could You Not Know?
How could you not know
That it cut me to my soul
When you sat there singing strong
And others played along
You looked me in the eyes
Yet you never wondered why
I felt such a deep hurt
You even acted curt
How could you not know
That it cut me to my soul
If I were blind and couldn’t see
Then you’d be singing with me
My voice would be strong
And maybe we’d get along
How could you not know
That it cut me to my soul
For I have music within
It stayed with me like sin
But I felt no remorse
When I couldn’t sing the chorus
I just hurt deep inside
Where my music resides
How could you not know
That it cut me to my soul
When you sat there singing strong
And others played along
How could you not know?
2 Bionic Ears 