"Ain't No Mountain High Enough"

I began writing this blog five years ago for two reasons: I wanted to share Jordan's hearing loss journey with other parents, and writing was a cathartic experience that enabled me to heal things I never knew needed healing.

Naomi Higgs, co-founder of the Pediatric Cochlear Implant Circle once wrote: "It's not a sprint, it's a marathon!" No truer words have ever been said in regard to raising a Deaf baby.

I remember when Jordan was about two years old and wore hearing aids. I took him out for some ice-cream in the center and we stumbled across a Rock band. He pointed his little finger at the musicians playing and indicated that he wanted to get out of his stroller. He stood there for about thirty seconds, then his little legs started moving and he did this funny squat dance to the beat of the song.
I started crying, my baby could hear music with his hearing aids.
We danced there for a good twenty minutes, then we went home.

I wrote about how his pre-school teachers told me not to send him to Elementary School because he was violent and could hurt other children. Jordan was extremely slow to learn new vocabulary, he had very poor comprehension and even poorer expressive language skills. I told those teachers that he was frustrated because he had difficulty communicating, but he could read and he was going to Elementary School.

Jordan got his Cochlear Implant when he was in 4th grade.

The CI gave him access to spontaneous language: he felt closer to his peers, his frustration decreased, he began learning to speak English. The picture above is of the first time Jordan spoke on the telephone and heard our voices. My Mother-in-Law captured the moment.

Jordan went to a Middle School specializing in Musical Education. He sang in a choir and learned to play the Classical Guitar.

When I ran into difficulty during the first two years of high school and was considering moving him to a more difficult educational setting, my CI Mom friend, Paula said, "NEVER set limitations on your son, ALWAYS strive for more. His hearing loss is only one part of him, he can do ANYTHING he sets his mind to achieving."  Jordan chose to change schools, conscious that he was choosing a more difficult academic path. And he is doing just fine.

Between Italy, the USA and Australia, I am part of a global Cochlear Implant Community. I use my experiences and network to help others at all points of the journey, just as I learn from families who are further ahead of us on the path.
This type of CI Community support is fundamental to ensure that our kids remain kids, as well as to safeguard our own well-being during the process.

I am proud and honored to say that Cochlear EMEA has recognized the importance of a Mother's Voice in the journey that so many of us travel, and they have offered me the opportunity to serve as a Consultant to Cochlear Europe, Middle East, Africa in regard to communications and relationship management with recipients and candidates and their parents and other relatives.

Three continents of families.
One family at a time.


 

Amazing...

Pierre...The Homeless Man at the Fountain of Trevi

My good friend works in a gourmet food store next to the Fountain of Trevi. He has bilateral cochlear implants and the heart of a Romantic Roman Gladiator. He wakes up at 5 am. every morning to go to work and every now and then sends me photos of a spectacular sunrise over Rome or some mouth-watering pasta dish.
The other day he told me a beautiful story...


I'd like to tell you the story of Pierre, a homeless man who walks the streets of Rome. I see him almost every day. He must be about 65 years old. He's thin, has bright eyes and has always sparked my interest, because I always see him reading really big books, while sitting on the steps of a church or theater. 

He always has a book in his hands.

Today I got to work early, so I sat on the steps of a nearby theater. A short time later, Pierre arrived, said hello and sat down.
I said, "Pierre, what are you reading?"
He told me to come closer and showed me a thick book in French.
I told him, "I don't know French, and you?"
He proudly replied, "I'm French."
I asked him "How did you end up in Rome, France is pretty far from here."
He looked at me with such sadness in his eyes, that I was immediately sorry to have asked the question.
He straightened himself up a bit, and in perfect Italian began telling me his story.
Pierre said, "Many years ago I was a professor at Sorbonne University. I fell in love with a student not much younger than myself. A few months later we became husband and wife. We were completely in love. We were so happy together, even though the only thing missing was a baby to complete our love. But I didn't need to have everything, I had her and her love. We were happy for twenty years.
Then, she got sick, with that horrifying disease, I can barely say it's name...cancer....they told us she had only a few months to live. Her dream was to travel around Europe. So, I decided to sell everything, every single thing we possessed and we began to travel. We visited France, Germany, Italy, Holland, all of the places that she dreamed of seeing.
But every day she got sicker and sicker and day by day I started losing her.
But she was happy, happy to have me by her side and to travel. In the meantime, our money was dwindling...I spent the last of it on a beautiful funeral worthy of the woman I loved.
Nothing was the same for me after she left me...she took me with her when she died.
I began wandering through Europe, and I ended up here. Reading helps me to feel less alone and to have her always with me."

My friend and Pierre have become friends, and he has begun bringing him books to read. 

Pierre is not his real name, but in the end..."What's in a name?"

 

Simple

Last year at this time, I spent 15 days at sea drinking Dom Perignon and devouring lobster. I saw breathtaking sunsets over wild natural settings and watched fireworks while holding hands. I got up at sunrise to go jogging dirt paths surrounded by wildflowers and crystal blue waters until the heat motivated stepping right on into the sea to cool off. I lived Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.

I just spent the past four days with my friend Rosy. We got up every morning at 7 am to be on the baseball field by 8 am. as she had to score the baseball games of an International Baseball Tournament. I stood for the Italian National Anthem and watched them play ball. We hung out on a campsite dedicated to the 60 teams and drank cold beer to wash down the dirt hanging in the humidity. We ate Mexican food on plastic plates and made room for sweaty mothers pushing hungry babies through the small spaces between the wooden picnic tables.

Whether you're in Jimmy Choos or Crocs, own your shoes.
And smile as you walk that mile.

The Giving Tree and the 5 Magic Plums

 

I closed the door and locked it.

I took off on my morning jog and entered the running deep thoughts phase.

Some people sit behind a desk from 9 to 5, five days a week, collect a paycheck, go to Happy Hour on Fridays, wash their cars on Saturdays and mow the lawn on Sunday mornings for a lifetime.
Other people work four unstable jobs, travel from country to country and call home a knapsack with a loaf of bread and a bottle of still water.
The drama comes when the person behind the desk has the soul of the wanderer.
The drama comes when the 9 to 5 lifestyle contributes to the inner dying process of a soul that no longer dreams.

While on my road, I heard a voice calling me. I turned around and a man on a ladder was waving to me to approach. I went up to the fence and he handed me some freshly picked plums from his tree. He smiled.
I smiled.
I proceeded to eat the five most delicious plums of my life.
I got somewhat choked up.
I didn't even know the man, and he proudly shared his plums.

I grew up with the terror of eating any fruit straight from the tree.
Don't eat those berries, you could DIE!!!
I grew up with fruit-from-tree-fear.
Living in Tuscany has changed that, I now eat plums from trees.
And as the sweet juice leaves my fingers sticky, I breathe and smile.

He gave me five plums.
And I ate them.
Afterwards, the next 15 hours went something like this...

I  received an email notifying me that my abstract had been accepted for a Congress in September.
Another beyond incredible telephone call gave me the confirmation of something huge,  that I will blog about when it happens

Then, this happened...

Once upon a time on this blog, I told the story of a friend I met on facebook. Let's say about three years ago. He lives in New York and has a private jet. He fueled up the jet, called for his woman and flew her to Maine for a fresh lobster lunch. They were back in New York for dinner.

I received a group message from this man in the evening. The group message went out to 28 people, including myself.

This man wrote:

Everyone is guessing' why I'm doing this ok........let 's face realty......each and everyone of us has gone through a lot this past year....some with major issues while others with less. including ME.........whatever it is .......and I know each and everyone of your past hardships ..........and we've honestly always stuck with each other........we've been friends for years I say..........and all wanting to get together meet......enjoy etc.....so I thought what better way than to take an opportunity with a Gala and a cruise...........Luckily I have the opportunity to offer this ..... and I want to share it with everyone........I care for ....we are friends...we are family........we must enjoy the benefits of being a family........ laughter.....joy.......love...........MY THANK YOU GIFT...

He is flying everyone, from different parts of the world, to New York City, and then he's taking us on a 7 day cruise to the Bahamas on Carnival Cruiseline.

Reading that message, I went through a series of emotions, one of them being similar to fruit-from-tree-fear.

Then, I thought of a 9 to 5 job behind a desk and reminded myself that I have the soul of an adventurer.

I believe.

I don't know if I will go, it depends on my job, my kids...many things.

But for the past couple of days, I have been drifting in and out of la-la-land.

I went running again today, with a smile on my face and dreamy thoughts of lying on the beach in the Bahamas in my head.

That voice called to me again as I was running my road. 

This time he handed me an enormous bag of plums.

He smiled.

I smiled.

And I took those plums home to share with my kids.

They love plums-fresh-from-the-tree.

 

Hmmm...Who's the one with the bilaterale Cis?

From the mouth of a ten year old

We were lying in bed, cuddling.
My little girl
and
I,
holding hands and suffering from jetlag.
I tried scratching her back, but she couldn't fall asleep.
We tried just sitting in silence, but the fan's monotonous blow blew on, along with the trucks slamming the bump in the street outside our terrace.
It was impossible to close the windows and unthinkable to switch off the fan.
So there we cuddled in silence.
At a certain point, her little Sofia voice cut through the darkness with an,
"I love you, Mom. Family power. Love power. Amen."
She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
I laid there listening to the whirling fan, the slamming trucks and my daughter breathing.
Home is where the heart beats the loudest....