Hearing Awareness
I love my lola’s love for music. I remember coming to her house and hearing her old record player fill the place with music. Oh, how the notes would dance around in invisible patterns. Even though the player itself looks pretty obsolete, its rusty echoes have always played the most beautiful songs. On rare occasions, she’d try to play her music instead through the home theater her estranged son has given her before, but nothing compares to the sound of her music through that old player.
Every time I come over, I’d guess who’s singing or playing on the records she’d play aloud. It’s become a game between me and her, and she’d reward me with halo-halo or mais con hielo or fruit salad, anything as long as it’d cool me down from the rather unforgiving tropical heat. It does not take me long to eventually take up the art of playing an instrument so as to follow along my grandmother’s love for the art. I’ve soon gotten good at the guitar and would often bring my own to my lola’s house, serenading her in the times she’d let her record player rest. I love her world of music, and I couldn’t just let go of it.
“Hi lola, I’m here. I got some pretty good news.”
I run up to my lola standing by the door, her arms outstretched and prepared for my embrace. After a big old hug, I take her hand and raise its back to my forehead as she leads me into the living room where her music plays. This time she’s using the home theater. Maybe I don’t remember well, but her music sounds louder now than the last time I’ve been here. It must be my ears just playing with me.
“It’s good to see you again after so long, hijo. Before you go spouting off about your good news, do you remember our little game?”
I laugh at the thought. “It’s Pavarotti singing ‘La Donna e Mobile’ from Verdi’s Rigoletto.”
My lola chuckles as she passes me a coco jam sandwich to snack on. “Oh, you’re right again. What’s this good news then you’re talking about?”
“You know how I’ve been part of my friend’s band ever since I picked up the guitar? Well my friend showed a clip of our rehearsal to this talent scout, and now he wants us to play at this inter-school battle-of-the-bands thing.”
“That’s great news, apo. When will it be?”
“It’ll be this weekend. I was hoping you could come see our set, cheer us on and all. It’ll mean a lot since it’s our first official show, even if it’s for a contest.”
“Won’t your parents be there?”
“No, they’re on a business trip.”
“Well, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
We embrace once more, but this hug feels different. We’ve hugged each other so many times in the past it’s almost routine, but this one carries with it a tinge of sadness. I’m probably just picking up on things that aren’t actually here. I must be imagining.
I head on outside ahead of my lola following me. “Well I better get going. Sorry I coudn’t stay long, but I still got to practice for the big night. I’ll see you then, lola?”
“I’ll be there.”
Her smile seems warm with a hint of grief, but I couldn’t place it anywhere amidst her excitement. She looks excited enough as I run to my friend’s studio already late but nervous for the big show. I have to make this good, all for her and for her music.
At last the night of the show’s arrived, and I couldn’t be any more nervous. I look outside from behind the curtain and instantly find my lola seated right by the stage, right where my amp’s hooked up. Ignorant of everyone else around her, she looks pretty excited. I hide away the moment she finds me peeking.
“Whoa man, you’re pretty nervous. That’s not just today; you’ve been nervous this whole week.”
“Sorry guys, I just really want to put on a good show for my lola. She’s sitting there at the front.”
“Shouldn’t you be more worried about the scout? If he likes what he sees, he could get us a recording deal.”
“Yeah I know about that, but my lola’s got some refined taste in music. I just hope our music won’t upset her.”
“She’ll definitely appreciate you for showing off your skills. You picked up the guitar because of her, didn’t you?”
I smile amidst the nerves wracking all over. Worrying about the talent scout’s one thing, but disappointing my lola’s a whole other story. I just couldn’t let that happen. I have to play good.
Being saved ‘the best for last’, our set finally comes on. The moment I step onto that stage, all prior fears leave my system rendering me more confident than ever. As soon as I hook my guitar up to the amp, I feel like I’ve been doing this my whole life, like I’ve been born a rockstar. With my fingers sliding down frets and curved into chords, I could feel my hands almost melting away and being one with the guitar. I’ve never felt more awesome in my life.
I sneak a glimpse of my lola inched ever closer to the stage, her smile so much bigger than ever. I’ve never seen her more excited for my music until now. She’s getting really into it.
“Hey man, I think your lola digs our music.”
I could only laugh back at our drummer. “Yeah, I didn’t think she’d have a thing for rock music.”
The rest of our set goes by flawlessly. No missed notes, no funny beats–not a thing’s out of place. The audience seems to really love our set. Even the scout who found us would sneakily bang his head every now and then. My lola seems to be going along with the audience, banging her head with her hands up. This is definitely the coolest I’ve ever seen her. I don’t think I can ever forget this sight of her.
Just as quickly as it’s started, our set’s over. We head on backstage congratulating everyone for a job well done when our scout makes his backstage and finds us. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him, and already his big smile tells us all what we want to hear.
“Great job, you guys. You did me proud.” He hands us his card with a quick flick of his wrist. “How about that recording deal? Say we meet up on Wednesday after school at the office?”
He leaves us aghast as he makes his way out backstage. We wait for the door to fully close before we exclaim our excitement over this amazing sequence of events. We go for a long group hug complete with tears of joy and words of gratitude for everything that’s happened. The stage management crew could not look away from the hysteria of our band, but we can hardly contain ourselves. We’ve never thought we’d get this far in such a short period of time. It’ all just overwhelming.
I look outside to find my lola gone from her seat. I look at my watch on time and find that it’s past eleven at night. She must’ve gone home for her bedtime already, but I don’t understand why she’d want to go without a goodbye. I suppose I’ll just come over tomorrow to tell her this awesome news.
The following day, I head to my lola’s house. To my surprise, it’s quiet, too quiet. I’ve never been to this house when there’s no music playing. I’ve always heard music playing aloud at this house, but this time’s different. Without her music playing, this place feels sad and lonely. It bewilders me, but I head inside anyway like it’s no big deal.
I immediately find her quietly knitting a pair of earmuffs in the living room, the ones she’d promised she’d make me for my next Christmas trip to Japan. I greet her as usual, but she doesn’t budge. I continue to call her but receive no reply. I turn to face her, crouching down by her side as I take her hand and raise its back to my forehead. She turns to face me with a smile awash in tears. I couldn’t understand why until she hands me a letter once folded up in her hand and beckons I read it.
“My dearest apo, I loved your show last night. You were amazing. I honestly didn’t think I’d bear with rock music since you know my tastes in music, but yours is nothing like the noise other old people like me would complain about. You charmed the audience, and you charmed me. I’m happy you invited me to come see your show. Like I said, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Forgive me for leaving too soon, but the energy of it all just got to me. I hope you understand, especially since I’m not as young and eager as you.
“Hijo, I’ve kept something secret for a while now.. I didn’t want to tell you for it would only break your heart and crush your dreams of a career in music, but now that it’s happened, I don’t think I can hide this anymore.
“I’ve been losing my hearing bit by bit over the years. Last week at my last checkup, my doctor warned me that I’d completely lose my hearing any day soon. I took the news with a heavy heart and wasn’t sure how to tell you since you were getting so good with the guitar, so I kept quiet about it. When you told me about your show, I prayed that your show would be the last piece of music that my ailing ears would hear. God granted me that wish, and I enjoyed what I heard. I thank you for blessing my dying sense of hearing with your music.
“This morning was the first time I’ve woken up without the songs of the birds chirping outside my window, without the the crow of a rooster, without the roar of my neighbor’s lawn mower trimming the grass on his front yard. I’ve never had a quieter morning than today, and I cried because I couldn’t hear anymore. I can’t ever hear your sound again. I can’t hear my sound again. I can’t hear anyone’s sound again.
“I’m deaf now. That’s my secret.
“I’m so sorry, anak.
“Thank you for that last gift of music. You were wonderful.”