The gift of sound

I called my grandma yesterday.

I had heard that, after long last, she had just gotten hearing aids. I called her up to say hello and congratulate her.

Boy, was she thrilled!

"Josh, I can hear the wind again! It's so beautiful." She went on to tell me how there's a creaky door in the house, and how neat clocks sound. We were brainstorming about neat things to listen to. "Hey, you've gotta go listen to the echoes at the National Gallery of Art! The voices bouncing off the marble sound neat! And have you heard your cat purring?" "You can hear her across the room?" "Sure can, if she's happy!" "I can't wait to listen!"

I listened, so happy to hear about her listening. I mentioned how I like to listen to all of my favorite songs through any new speakers I get, but how this is really like listening to life.

It got me excited about listening. I was taking a walk this morning, and I heard a bird singing lazily way off in the distance, deep in the summer forest. I marveled at how I could tell he was way far away.

Music is everywhere. As a matter of fact, sometimes I like the normal sounds of life better than music. I walked back from the grocery store yesterday, and the wind blew a mellow tune across the mouth of the open Mountain Dew bottle - probably the only calm that emanated from that green container.

I got out of the car after I hung up the phone with her, and listened to the Katydids in the forest.

I almost called her back to tell her to go outside and listen.