… or, how the past is the present and the future.

Two weeks ago, on May 2, Ben turned seventeen. Born just past noon on a bright Spring Saturday, he emerged a beautiful infant, and grew into an adorable toddler with blue eyes, curly golden hair, and a sweet disposition.

Although not yet manifested at birth and in these early years, Ben was born with enlarged vestibular aqueducts in his inner ears (see http://www.nidcd.nih.gov/health/hearing/eva.asp for specific information on this form of hearing loss). In layperson’s language, Ben was born with structural defects in his inner ears, formed in utero, which predisposed him to deafness. That predisposition emerged when he was about three and one-half years old.

At birth, I fell in love with my boy; it was love at first sight. As he grew from infancy to toddler-hood, my heart bubbled with joy, pride, and love. Another child, my precious girl Maddie, came into my life. I fell in love again. Later that year, Ben’s deafness became evident, and a diagnosis was given, for all the good it did to attach a label to the cause.

Ben’s birth set in motion a chain of events leading everywhere, in all kinds of directions, including deafness, Cued Speech, and a cochlear implant. A portal to a different world opened. A new format emerged. A new identity enveloped me at Ben’s birth, setting in motion a chain of events as a parent, a dad to a son (and later a daughter), a father to a deaf child (and later a hearing one), a cueing man.

Like the time-travel movies referenced in the title, our present is the past, and will be the future. Ben’s recent birthday was a celebration of the beginning of his journey on earth. Seventeen years later, our journey together is inextricably linked to deafness and cueing.

Ben is a deaf cuer; I am cueing dad. Our history is based on this reality; our future will make this reality our history. In the present, that’s something to celebrate!