Plop, Bling, Click

I've spent most of my life in very noisy surroundings. There's nothing like teaching foreign language in the middle school to make every cilia in the inner ear vibrate maniacally. Those same cilia were regularly assaulted by the amazingly loud cries of newborns, followed by the screams of toddlers running through the house, followed by the practice of musical instruments and raucous Cub Scout den meetings. Those cilia were later set on end by percussion concerts, strange noises from video games, and all too soon, Pomp and Circumstance.

Now it's quiet.

This morning Ken is off judging the junior high science fair and Kevin is at a rehearsal. As I sit at the kitchen table I hear the soft plop of water droplets from melting icicles land on the porch. I hear a "bing" every time an e-mail is received by my phone. The laptop makes a mysterious soft "pong" sound periodically. The furnace fan kicks in. A car door slams out on the street. I even hear the click of every key I push on the keyboard.

My mom can't hear sounds like these. Most of her contemporaries can't hear them either.

Ken and I both worry that our hearing is not as astute as it once was. Kevin rolls his eyes when he hears our preferred TV volume setting. Our conversation is sprinkled generously with "huhs?" and "what's?". The background music and crash-bangs in movies prevent us from hearing the dialog. It's frustrating, but I still hear the pings, bings, clicks, and fans of my often quiet world and I am thankful.

The mild hearing loss is most likely a result of genetics and years of living with major noise. When the boys were in school and I was teaching, I yearned for a few minutes of quiet. Now, when I actually have those moments, I'm not crazy about them.

Fortunately, the resident percussionist comes home and practices marimba, snare drum, and even cymbals......and all is again right with the world!