Hearing, as we all know, is one of the five senses. God gave us this privilege of hearing. From hearing comes speaking, singing, understanding, and learning.
I was born with a bone malformation in my left ear. From birth my hearing has been off. A lot of times I can't hear the little whispers around me or even the casual conversations towards me. When I'm insecure I often pretend I hear even when I can't. Sometimes it's gotten me in trouble. I agree to things I wish I hadn't. And I can't hear when important details are given.
There are devices in today's age that aid in hearing. I got my first hearing aid when I was five. My parents tell the story of me wearing it the first time and walking on our hardwood floor at home with my Sunday shoes (in the 80s, those were shiny black or white shoes with metal bottoms). I heard for the first time the click clack of my shoes and was in awe. I'm not surprised that I then continued to make noise, a little too annoyingly.
I'm thankful for my hearing loss. I've been able to empathize with others with disabilities. Even though mine is minute to them, I know what it's like to be behind and different. I was almost held back in school because I couldn't hear the sounds of letters and words. Once I got my hearing aid, I soared. I also gained a greater appreciation for music. I LOVE music. Because I had to work harder to hear, I learned to close my eyes and feel the keys to our piano, to tap the rhythm of all types of genres on my legs. I felt the beat not just in my ears but my whole body.
I was able to pass along my love and joy to Jax. We gave him his first tiny drumset and I knowingly gave him old pans and wooden spoons to bang on. I didn't want him to take advantage of the joy of being able to hear. I'm so glad we started this love of music with him. For when he would have one of his countless setbacks in the hospital, he would be able to listen and hear the music that so often comforted him.
Sometimes this would include marching band music (which I nostalgically conducted to), cartoon theme songs, Worship songs, and even musicals. One night we stayed up watching Les Miserable on PBS because he wouldn't let me turn it off. He loved the songs and the inflections of the singers as they belted out their feelings through music.
One of the greatest memories I'll carry with me is my mom singing to Jax. Even though it was hard for me to watch at the time, I always appreciated it and love still. When I was alone with him, I would sing and take his hands to keep the beat. Even though he was asleep or unconscious most of the time the last few weeks of his life, I know he could still hear us and feel the music.
Corey and I used our alone time with Jax to talk with him, sing to him, watch his favorite movie Cars (over and over again). We were thankful that even though Jax couldn't talk back we could use his gift of hearing to let us love him and tell him we loved him.
Our time in the hospital and through Jax's medical journey has opened my ears to be able to listen on a whole new level. No my bones didn't change or I heard better. I opened my heart to hear God. He wasn't screaming at me, he had been quietly whispering to me, waiting for me to hear him. I learned so many lessons during our 16 months away. God had been talking to me, singing to me, reminding me that he was/is there for all of us. Even though I couldn't physically hear the best, I opened my ears, heart, eyes to listen to God and know that He was there for me, with me.
