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.

Found Sound

It was a beautiful day and I decided to take advantage of it and go for walk. I grabbed my camera with the hope of getting some good pictures and headed towards a park with a waterfall. Unfortunately, when I got to the park, the light was too low for anything special and the waterfall was not running yet.

All was not lost. Although the pictures I did take aren’t very good, the memory of that walk will stay with me always. I’ll tell you why. Just before I got to the park, I heard the beautiful whistle of a bird - a bird call that I had not singled out before. I could hear birds with one implant, but with two there is a finer quality allowing me to distinguish different birds. Even more awesome than hearing the bird, I automatically turned to where I thought the sound was coming from to see the bird, and there it was right in my line of vision. It was automatic and I turned in the right direction. I’m still having a hard time believing it. I took a picture of the bird, but before I could get a good focus, it flew away.

Feeling just wonderful and wishing there were more birds to hear, I continued to the park. Even though the waterfall had no water and the sun was getting low I took a few pictures anyway and then headed home.

As I emerged from the park, I heard a beautiful tinkling in the breeze and once again I turned toward the sound. I was thrilled to see a chime hanging on the back of the house I was looking at because now I knew for sure I had direction. And I was hearing a chime!

Birds, chimes – it amazes me. My hearing loss started in the high tones and birds were one of the first sounds I lost. To have these sounds back, the sounds that have been gone the longest (more than 25 years), is fabulous, amazing, awesome, great. Being able to locate the sound is frosting on the cake!!!

Do we really mean to say "congratulations"?

Do we really mean to say “congratulations” to someone who has just qualified for a cochlear implant? I don’t mean any offense to the people that say this, because I know the spirit it which the “congratulations” are given, but I do want to talk about this for a bit.

I remember when I qualified and the first person that congratulated me. She was someone I worked with and she new this was something I was hoping for – but it did not feel right to be congratulated. I arrived to the point of qualifying for a cochlear implant with very mixed emotions and a large part was sadness. My hearing was so far gone this was my only hope and the last resort.

Whenever I see someone congratulating another for qualifying, I cringe a little bit. I will wish them well and I will pray for them and send them positive thoughts as they pursue better hearing and sound, but I can’t bring myself to say “congratulations.” After all, getting to this point was a loss of the hearing they may have had or never had at all.

Maybe I’m being too sensitive and maybe it is okay when someone who has a cochlear implant congratulates someone that qualifies. It is like saying, “Welcome to the community.” For myself, that is what I will say, “Welcome to the community. I wish you well as you pursue better hearing.”

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?

My Hearing Loss

Recently on Hearing Journey, one of the moderators asked participants to post to the question, "How did you lose your hearing?" My original article about my hearing loss is titled "How Many Times Do I Have To Grieve?" and is the first post on this blog. I felt it is too long to post on Hearing Journey. I have written about my loss several times and decided to do something different this time. Below is the poem I wrote:

My Hearing Loss

Although it was suspected, when I was just a girl,
It wasn’t checked until later, how much I could hear.
At the Junior High School, when I was a young teen,
Machines were brought for testing and a mass screening.
One day they called a list of names, over the intercom,
It was a mix of boys and girls, and not real long.
We gathered with the counselor, to each of us he spoke,
Asking if we knew, our hearing might be broke.
Because I didn’t know, it had to be told,
He gave me a letter, for my parents to hold.
I put it in my math book, and walked home slow,
I was carrying news, that made me feel low.
My mother said to me, “What took you so long?”
I handed her the letter, feeling like a Blue’s song.
She read it very carefully, then she made a plan,
She called the local clinic, and I would see a man.
He looked into my ears and throat, and whispered across the room,
Sent me for hearing tests, I could feel the gloom.
He said I had a hearing loss, but would it stay the same?
Only time would tell, this was not a game.
The school years passed, and I did my best,
Sitting at the front of class, studying for the tests.
Then it was time to check, my hearing once again,
I had plans for my life, and I was ready to begin.
I went to see the son of the man, young Dr. Young,
And what he had to tell me, really stung.
Your hearing is going, there is more gone,
We can’t help you, and we don’t know how long.
I want to enlist - my country I want to serve!
He said, “They won’t take you, because of your hearing nerve.”
Now what do I do, what jobs can I take?
He said, “Stay away from loud noises, for your hearing’s sake.”
So I worked for the city, putting tickets on cars,
And I thought, this won’t take me very far.
Then I met my husband, my wonder, my love,
We married and had children, gifts from above.
I could still hear the babies, when they cried in the night,
But not the birds that sang, before they took flight.
New doctors gave me hope, with a hearing aid, then two,
So I could hear my children, as they grew.
Then one day, my hearing was so small,
I thought that my eyes, would have to do it all.
But something came along, it was kind of new,
And the doctor said, “Maybe this will work for you.”
You will have to have surgery, go under the knife,
But if you are willing, it could change your life.
I said, “I want to do this, I really want to hear.”
And the surgery was scheduled, that very year.
There were several implants, companies had made,
The doctor said, “Pick one, before your surgery day.”
So I read and I studied, and I asked around,
I picked Advanced Bionics, to bring me sound.
In 2001, after all the strife,
It was a new beginning, for my hearing life.
The rain and the birds, are a wonder to hear,
I love this miracle, called the bionic ear.

Mapping Back

I had a mapping on December 16th, 2008. The allergy issue is still present and I was taking medications to control the symptoms when I was mapped that day. Because I was feeling good and my symptoms were under control, my audiologist suggested that I try the map I had before the allergies started to affect my hearing in October. She turned it on and to my surprise and my audi's too, it sounded good. Good enough to keep. We made some volume adjustments and made that my main map. She then made a crowd noise map from that one for slot 2 and finally for slot 3, she recommended we keep the map we made when my allergy symptoms had flared. I agreed, but I was thinking I probably wouldn't need it. Ha! To my surprise, I turned it on that very evening. I was relaxing in front of a movie on the TV when the sound became loud and distorted sounding. I was trying to figure out what was going on when I realized that the allergy medication I had taken that day had probably worn off. I was only half way through the movie and irritated that my hearing had changed that much when I remembered I had the other map in slot 3. Switching to the other map made enough of a difference that I was able to enjoy the rest of the movie. This was a better alternative than taking more medication at the end of the day when I would rather not (it sometimes affects my sleep cycle). I was glad I had the map as an option.

I'm not one to switch from map to map very often, but it is nice to have choices when I think of using them. I need to be more thoughtful about controlling my hearing in different situations and hopefully I will be more mindful of my options in the coming year.

Happy New Year!