I was once asked if I had to choose which would I prefer,
to be blind or deaf.
An odd question I know.
My answer was immediate I would prefer to be deaf.
I wanted to see what was happening in my world.
I wanted to see the faces of my loved ones and friends.
I wanted to witness the beauty of nature.
I couldn’t imagine being blind.
But when my friend answered the same question,
her answer made me reconsider.
She said she would prefer to be blind.
She couldn’t imagine a world without music or the spoken word.
She couldn’t imagine not being able to hear laughter or crying.
Although I have fond memories of my Mother.
After she passed away I would replay a message she left on my voicemail.
There was nothing extraordinary about the message she left.
I just wanted to hear the sound of her voice again.
Her dulcet tone, her inflection on certain words, her breathy monotonous voice.