Don’t Call Me a Widow – Part 39–

When You are Dependent…

We are all dependent on something, and that dependency shapes us in ways we don’t always recognize. Studies show it doesn’t matter whether our reliance is emotional, relational, financial, or habitual—each one leaves a fingerprint on us as we evolve.

When I began wearing hearing aids, I didn’t just become dependent on the devices themselves (nearly 24/7). I also became dependent on Rich, who became my second set of ears when my aids weren’t doing the job. I trusted him to keep me aware, steady, and safe. Even when he joked that my hearing aids were “worthless,” he was still my support system.

The day Rich could no longer be that second set of ears, a new fear settled in—the fear of being on the outside, unable to hear what was happening on the inside.

Like computers, hearing aids come in levels. Inexpensive devices simply amplify sound, which may or may not be clear or recognizable. More advanced aids offer settings, adjustments, and updates that can make a world of difference. Hearing aids are not one‑size‑fits‑all, despite what some manufacturers try to convince us.

I’ve worn hearing aids for almost 15 years. I’ve tried the cheap ones that offered no real help, and the moderate‑to‑expensive ones that provided meaningful adjustments. Sadly, my current set has been poor quality, and I’ve had to revert to older aids that are no longer adequate. It has disrupted my life—especially without my second set of ears named Rich.

I share this because I believe in being an open book. When we are honest, people understand us better. They become more aware. And sometimes, help arrives without us even having to ask.

I was scheduled to meet a new friend for lunch today, but honesty felt more important than pushing through discomfort. Lunch is postponed and will be rescheduled. For now, I’m best meeting one‑on‑one in the quiet of my home until my new aids arrive—hopefully soon.

Looking back, I now understand why Saturday’s gathering was so difficult. With a house full of guests, I struggled to hear. I felt like I was living inside a Charlie Brown cartoon—Wha‑wha‑wha—missing punchlines and conversations all day. I didn’t say anything. When everyone left, the quiet in the house was louder than the voices of eight women. That’s when I understood how my migraine developed and why it’s still lingering.

My brain is working overtime to hear and adjust, and it’s wearing me out. All I can do now is take things moment by moment, trusting that this will be fixed. I also know that I have only myself to depend on now; my second set of ears is listening from another place, offering comfort but not words.

Still, I trust Rich’s energy to see me through this. The sun will rise tomorrow, and so will I.

#YesICan Coaching with Karen
Email: Kh.yesican1@gmail.com