Our ability to hear connects us to the world we live in—to our surroundings, to the little details of life, and most importantly, to the people we love. Because when hearing is impaired, it can lead to the listener avoiding social interaction, which ultimately means you lose out on connecting with them. This Father’s Day, beautiful stories, like Erin’s experience with her dad, only help to reinforce our commitment to changing the lives for anyone who needs quality hearing assistance.
“My father is a gruff, barrel-chested Norwegian. My sister and I joke that he’d look exactly right at the bow of a ship wearing a helmet with horns, raising a pewter mug full of beer. To say that he’s stubborn is an understatement.
Proud, burly, brusque. He taught us to suffer well, to endure pain and discomfort, and push through any obstacle in order to meet our objectives. My dad taught us how to work.
Dad has always been loud. He growls and yells and bellows. My sister’s kids call him “Scary Grandpa.” I send my kids to his house for summer for “Grandpa Boot Camp,” explaining to my sons and daughter that “If you can work with Grandpa, you can work with anyone.”
Dad’s hearing loss seemed to arrive subtly. Perhaps it was the volume at which he’s always lived his life that masked the signs, but over the past couple of years we noticed that he asked more and more for clarification. He started to sit at the fringe of activity instead of in the middle, he’d watch TV at max volume, and he’d watch our mouths a lot when we talked.
My parents have nine grandkids, ranging in age from five to sixteen. When we’re all together we create a beautiful noise—chaotic, animated, alive. My sister and I knew that our dad was missing a huge part of grandparenting by not being able to hear tiny voices, giggles, and small conversations. For Christmas this past year, we decided to purchase Dad some hearing aids.
Knowing him the way we do, we knew Dad would never admit he needed the help. We knew he’d never go to a doctor for a fitting, and we knew he’d never pay out of pocket for something that he didn’t feel was necessary to “meeting the objective.” Sitting quietly has never been his style, but he’ll be 76 this year… and whether by choice or force, time will slow him down eventually.
After scouring the internet and reading countless reviews, we decided to purchase from Eargo. Within 3 days the devices arrived, were wrapped, and put under the tree.
We gave Dad his present a day early, the evening before our family holiday gathering. In a quiet corner of the kitchen he opened his gift. I walked him through the instruction manual, installed the app on his phone, and helped him insert the Eargos for the first time.
Dad was quiet throughout the process. He’s not a cheerleader by any means, and takes a long time to adjust to change. After letting him sit alone with the Eargos for about fifteen minutes, I leaned on the counter next to him and asked, “Well, what do you think?”
His first comment was, “I didn’t realize I talked so loud.” 🙂
Since starting with his Eargos, Dad has noticed things the rest of us took for granted. He noticed that his favorite chair in the kitchen creaks when you sit in it. I’ve always known that (it’s how I can tell he’s sitting at the table when I’m in the other room), but he’s learning it for the first time. He noticed that his beloved popcorn machine makes a squeaky hum when it’s warming up. He learned what my sister’s youngest kid’s “whisper” sounds like (not as quiet as he thinks he is, which is quite funny), and he can now hear the dog jingle the bell on the front door when she needs to go outside.
The gruff, loud Norwegian has a soft, quiet side, and we’re all meeting him for the first time. It’s wonderful.
Thank you for reaching out. We have been overwhelmed with the level of customer service and consideration given to your clients. I have no doubt that Dad will ask for help when he needs it, and I will happily encourage him to do so, knowing he will be well taken care of.
Please let me know if there’s anything more I can do to encourage others to buy your product.”
Sincerely,
Erin Laurvick
Thank you, Erin. And cheers to your father too!
