From Patrick’s Dad, Chris Hoffner:
When I learned through a newborn hearing screening that my son has profound hearing loss bilaterally, I was thrust overnight into a world that I knew practically nothing about. Many questions and scenarios raced through my mind in those early days of my son’s hearing journey. I am sure those questions were asked by many people in my situation. How will I communicate with him? How fast can I learn to sign? How well will he function in the world? Will he have friends? Will he be safe? He looked so absolutely perfect to me, yet on our first day together it felt as though a huge wall had been put between us. Things I enjoy so much in life I might not be able to share with him. I wept when I realized I could not share my love of music with my son. Would he ever know my love of the outdoors, and appreciate what the wind through the trees, the buzzing of a bee, and the chirp of a bird on a relaxing hike can mean for your soul?
On Father’s Day now in my son’s sixth year I do not fret over the opportunities that were not available to us. Instead I live thankful every day for the wonders that we share together in a world filled with the richness of sound. We do listen to music. Like many children, Patrick loves to hear the same songs over and over again. He thinks some of my favorite music is terrible (as we all do with some of our parent’s music!) but other songs I grew up with stick in his head and I catch him singing them days later. We have random silly dance moments when a good tune comes on. Virtually every single night for 6 years we have enjoyed book time before bed as a family, when my wife and I take turns reading stories to Patrick. I have lived through the “why years” at least three times as Patrick has learned to question everything in the world around him. As he gets older, the questions just get more and more complex. The cochlear implants Patrick received shortly after his first birthday have enabled us to share these hearing times together.
Now that Patrick has been a CI user for 5 years, and as I ponder what his ability to hear has meant for our lives together, I am drawn to those moments when we communicated without barriers or challenges. I am amazed at how often parents communicate with their children without being face to face or without looking directly at each other. We are no different. We are an active family. We travel a lot, and we spend a lot of time on the move hiking, biking, and finding fun. When Patrick was little and our early hikes in the Colorado Rockies meant he was in a child-carrying backpack, we talked to each other constantly, pointing out new things we heard and saw. As he grew older and began hiking (or getting through the Disney World parks!) on foot, he would still get tired, and those shoulder rides that are such a bond between kids and their fathers did not mean we were 
without communication. We have walked hundreds of miles with him up on high talking about Legos, pretending I was a Star Wars AT-AT Walker, or planning the next things we were about to do. When we went canoeing last summer and spotted a baby deer on the side of the river, I was able to whisper to get Patrick’s attention and talk about the beauty of this gentle creature from the other end of the canoe and without scaring the deer away. As I taught him how to cross the monkey bars, or soon as he learns to ride a bike without training wheels, he hears a constant stream of instructions and encouragement. When we use a trail-a-bike for our longer bike rides together, we pretend we are on speeders on Endor or make up adventures as Ninjago characters.
On a hike this past February my son and I wound our way up a hillside above the Meramec River. The air was unseasonably warm and the trail was muddy from melting snow. Wind was blowing steadily in our ears and down in the valley a train was rumbling past. I enjoyed the wind blowing old leaves across the ground, the bare tree branches scraping against each other and clicking, and I heard the squish of my shoes as I stepped into the muck to guide him across dry patches of ground. He had been upgraded to the Nucleus 6 sound processors a few weeks prior and I wondered what his listening environment was like. Was he enjoying all these sounds that I was?
I leaned down to his height and said toward his processor “Hey, can you tell me what that train sounds like?” “Whoosh and click clack click clack” came the reply. “Oh, you can hear it over the wind?” I was surprised, as the wind made it hard for me to hear him. “What does the wind sound like?” He imitated wind the same way I would. I was was so happy in that moment… then he said “Daddy you have a magic voice.” “What?” I chuckled, figuring his imagination was taking off again. “Every time you talk the wind goes away and I can hear you. When you stop the wind comes back.” I was floored, and explained to him the wonders of a CI with noise cancellation!
I wanted to tell him, “No Patrick, you have a magic voice, and we celebrate you speaking, singing, and sharing stories with us every day. I am so happy to be your father.”
Hear Patrick’s story in this video.
Happy Fathers Day From Everyone at Cochlear.
