The Holiday concert was in full swing and my child kept talking.  Over the sound of the band, I could only hear every fourth or fifth word he was saying.  It was really no use, the band kept playing, my child kept talking, and my ability to hear remained minimal.

Rather than lean close for the twentieth time and explain that I could not hear him, I resigned myself to the situation.  I looked at my dear chattering child, smiled, nodded, and put my hand on his shoulder.

In my child’s mind, I remained a loving parent.  Paying full attention.  Hearing every word.

In my mind, I had gained a new life skill.  A default that I will use for years to come.  Diminished hearing will most certainly come, but a smile, a look of care, and a gentle touch.  I could keep doing those, no worries there.

So keep talking my boy.  Let your imagination run wild.  For the band will keep playing with your dad “listening” at your side.