Sunday 2 July 2006

Softly, slowly (the hearing post).

(This post is going to be awfully esoteric for most. The revelation that Jacob deliberately whispers words to me that I never hear was at once profound and heartbreaking to discover. And it has been going on for years. YEARS. For the record, Cole never cared if I heard him or not. He helped me pretend I was perfect. On the outside.)

I have a theory: There are two kinds of people in this world-those who get songs stuck in their heads and subsequently play them for WEEKS until the urge wanes, and those who don't.

Jacob and I are both of the first persuasion. Which makes for some entertaining and frustrating moments because the one with the stuck song will play it so much it invariably winds up in the head of the one who was doing just fine thank you.

Enter Elton John and Bernie Taupin. Masterful songwriters. Hello, we're children of the early seventies. Because, well, Tiny Dancer. One of Jake's favorites.

That song that will go down in our history as changing my mind on my hearing. A tremendous feat this many years into a hearing loss, don't you think? Especially since I've been listening to this one song my entire life. On 8-track, vinyl, cassette, CD and finally iTunes. If that doesn't prove I love it I don't know what would. I just never knew most of the lyrics.

Which is funny and cute but really dumb all at once. We were slow dancing in the kitchen a few weeks ago with the CD Madman Across the Water playing.

I love to dance, what can I say?

Jacob was singing Tiny Dancer, right into my ear so I could hear the words clearly. He got to the bridge and sang "and you can't hear me...when I say softly... slowly..." and I just stopped and stared at him. He smiled and twirled me around and kept singing and finished the song and then he played it again. And sang it again. He explained the significance for him, how often he says things, talks to me knowing I don't have a clue. I don't even know.

That touched me right down to the bottom of my soul.

Right there it became Bridget's song. My song. (Without even tiny Bridget dancing references required. He is 6'4", I am 5'2" with heels. Tiny is an apt description.)

Jake said he's always thought of me when he plays that song, ever since he found out the hard way about my hearing loss. I try not to tell people until I'm in a difficult one-on-one situation, because it compounds the doll treatment thing, which I hate. Once he became a regular fixture in my life he picked a fight with me out of the blue one evening. I was in the kitchen and I asked him if he wanted a drink and then I came to the door and stared at him, waiting for his answer. He was short with me. For the first time.

Why do you do that Bridget?

Do what?

Ask me everything twice?

I didn't hear your answer, Jake.

You never hear my answers though.

I don't hear much of anything.

What?

Are you making fun of me?

No, explain this to me. Please?

I lost most of my hearing. Put on those headphones and talk to me. That's what I hear, Jake.

Why don't you wear a hearing aid?

I don't want one. I don't need one.

But you do. Wouldn't it make it easier?

Make what easier?

Life?

No, life isn't hard.
(<---I actually said that. How ridiculous.)

Wow.

Wow what?

Wow, I'm surprised. Actually I'm not. It makes perfect sense. I've been endeared to your head tilting for a while now. This explains a lot. The gesturing. The facial expressions that are so funny when you're trying to concentrate on listening. The writing. Constantly. Aw, Bridge. But Cole doesn't even....

(I cut him off here) Just don't make a big deal of it, okay?

It is a big deal. It makes you more adorable.

Jacob, not now.

Just saying.

Shh.

So since I know, am I supposed to do anything differently?

Yes, answer my questions twice without complaining. No. Seriously, just make sure if you want to know if I heard you make eye contact or it's mostly useless. Oh and rescue me if it's a noisy place. I'll be lost otherwise.

Beautiful.

Okay, stop it now.

It augments what I love about you.

Jake. Knock it off. Cole's outside.

Is it genetic?

No. Ruth has been tested and she's perfect.

So are you and I can't believe Cole. Does he acknowledge you at all?

Enough Jake.

That answers the question, Bridge.

He cultivated a long-running argument on the subject of my hearing after that because he wanted me to not have to work so damned hard to do something other people don't think about. He. just. fucking. cared. When no one else really did.

Now? Jacob has no shame, he tells everyone about it now. Absolutely everyone. The mailman. The grocery clerk. He's just trying to make things as easy as possible. Bless his heart.

And once I left Cole, Jacob instantly found a most beautiful way of getting my attention that I have mentioned before. He cradles my face in his hands, he looks into my eyes so that he knows I hear him. And frankly, as much as so many of my reasons against hearing aids were dismissed, that one thing, when he puts his hand on my face and while he's talking he absently rubs his thumb along my bottom lip. Well, that's not something I want to give up EVER and I fear that once I can hear him better he'll stop doing it. I don't want him to stop doing that. Ever. In a million years. Never ever ever.

So if Tiny Dancer wasn't stuck in my head before, it sure is now. And I know Jacob is still whispering things to me when he thinks I'm not paying attention.