It’s odd when a song takes a new dimension in your life and you sob while listening to it.
I’ll admit, I’ve been locked on to The Beatles and their 1969 classic Here Comes the Sun as my intended first-song to listen to when sound was restored for me. It just seems so God damned fitting. The span of time between August 5th to October 24th seems comparable to an entire calendar season. One long, cold, lonely calendar season where this author was condemned to solitude by way of being shut out from the day-to-day goings on around him with thanks to audio impairment suffered by chance mid-summer.
Mr. George Harrison, who penned “Here Comes the Sun”, was inspired by way of coming out of a (repeated) boardroom blandness (the downside of Apple Corps LTD for the members of the Beatles) and seeing London delighted in the sunshine of spring. In my case, the silence is a night that lasted far far too long.
In some ways, this moment of my life is a learning experience as the technology difference between the Nucleus Freedom and the Nucleus 6 (which I was upgraded to) is profound. Many similarities are there, too… especially the root of it all: Sound.
It’s the dawning of a new day in my life, yet it’s a resumption of what I’ve known naturally and artificially through my existence. I don’t want to be without it again. It stands in its existence as a verification of who you are, where you are, who others are and the textures of life. Sound has that dimension. It’s not as if those who embrace deafness can’t find these through visual means and other senses. I’m just not one who embraces the silence nor found a direction in life as a late-deaf adult.
Where things go from here, I don’t know. That’s life, though, isn’t it? This is the dawn of the resumption of an aspect of life that makes me elated and optimistic at what the next day holds and where it will take me.