EH?

 

Eh? Is an element of the universal “old” language which means please repeat what you just said because I didn’t hear or may have mistaken what I just heard. Although the ear trumpet, the first hearing aid was invented in 1634 by a French mathematician, people still do not like to use any aids to hearing. This may be caused by a stroke of vanity or stubbornness, who knows?

A recent acquaintance of mine mistakenly believed I was hard of hearing. This might have been due to my age. Many men and women my age - 80’s - are hard of hearing or wear hearing aids. But some of us miraculously are not. We’re officially “elderly,” but hear just as well as we did when we were in our twenties. Hearing well is a sense we’re grateful for and do not flaunt. (Although sometimes it’s less free not to hear all that’s being said.) We may have other mega problems thanks to aging just not hearing life’s instructions. As I’ve written before I think about our body parts like old car parts. They dull or totally wear out.

Assumption based on the norm is the danger in stereotyping. (No one who knows me has believed that I have been normal. Ever. But neither am I the uber crazy family member brought out to show off on the front porch.)

I have no problem hearing, even mutterings. Which my acquaintance now realizes because I immediately began a soft, sweet rant of education. He had it wrong.

Do not judge or belittle in my presence, because I will hear you. Loud and clear. Even with eighty and ninety year olds, you don’t know who enjoys keen hearing is listening. You can’t be too careful. (People carry guns these days and use them at the slightest provocation. But that’s a subject for another blog.)

At the other end of the “eh?” scale are the “shouters.” I appreciate those who raise their voices (with a smile) to speak to seniors as a matter of course and consideration. I can tolerate being yelled at by a thoughtful person. If you feel in danger of being misunderstood - shout. Don’t mutter.

Thanks to cataract surgery, non-invasive, painless and a procedure usually covered by insurance, most of us past sixty-five have had our sight restored to early days. We need the bare minimum of help; enter drug store peepers.

I wear glasses, usually peepers, because my sight is more than fair and peepers are less expensive than glasses. (If you’re a woman this is a bonus because you can have frames in every color if you’re serious about coordinating.)

Our five senses are important and expected to diminish over time - but some don’t. Remember, on meeting a new senior, you never know. Be kind.

Picture my hand behind my ear as it is now, “Eh?”

Can you hear me?