“I could never have imagined, that at 89 I would fall in love like this again.”

A story about losing, choosing, and hearing again

She sat before me, upright, clear.

Next to her, a man who smiled softly, briefly resting his hand on hers.

She, 89 springs young.

He, her love, 93.

And both so incredibly sharp. Completely present. No trace of forgetfulness or slowing down.He cracked jokes with the sharpness I’d expect from someone in their sixties. In fact, had he told me he was 75, I would have believed him.

They came together to my tinnitus consultation.

She spoke of a strange, crackling sound in her ear.Not a whistle, not a buzz, not a hum. But a sound that appeared when she ate…or when she was alone.

“As if something’s rustling,” she said.

She had already traveled a long road: family doctor, ENT specialist, hearing aid dispenser. And each time, the focus remained on her hearing loss.

And yes, the hearing loss was severe. Serious, even.

But what struck me most:she carried it with such grace.

She read faces. Followed conversations through lip reading. Felt the tone of a dialogue flawlessly. And above all, she had adapted, without losing herself.

I didn’t begin by measuring. I began by listening.

Because the real story didn’t start in her ear - but years ago.

She told me.Calmly. Matter-of-factly. A life that makes you quiet.

She had lost her husband. Sold her home. Traveled the world, alone.

Not to escape, she said,but to find new direction.

She smiled: “When I had nearly run out of money, I bought a small apartment. Overlooking the river Maas. Just for me.”

And then, entirely unexpectedly, he crossed her path.

An old acquaintance. Or rather: a man who, despite his 93 years, was so full of life, that being with him felt natural.

They fell in love again. At their age. After everything they had endured. She called it: “a miracle I never saw coming.”

And now here she was. With a crackling ear. With severe hearing loss. And with the love of her life at her side. I guided them step by step.

How our hearing works. How the ear captures sound, but the brain gives it meaning. How, with hearing loss or tinnitus,the brain can sometimes become overactive.

I explained how fear sharpens us. How we avoid what we dread. And how that avoidance - unintentionally - creates even more distress.

The fear-avoidance model. Simply explained. And suddenly the room felt still.

She nodded. Slowly.

And said: “Yes… that’s right. Especially at this stage of life. Where your body slows down. But your mind… wants to go so much further.”

She looked at him. And then came that one sentence:

“I could never have imagined, that at 89 I would fall in love like this again.”

They live apart. But see each other every day. And every morning at 7:30, he calls her.

With a poem. About the previous day. A small ritual. A daily reminder that love has no age.

She shared her favorite:

The balloonist began his journey.

The crowd applauded.

Moments later, the balloon burst.

She recited it with a smile, full of rhythm, wit, and beauty.

We laughed. Not only at the punchline. But at the lightness. The connection.

And then she grew quiet.

She said:

“What you did todaywas not just explain about ears. You heard me. Completely.

And for that, I thank you.”

In that moment, everything came together.

A severe hearing loss. A brain that sometimes startles. A body that grows older.

But also: A regained balance. An open heart. A daily dose of poetry.

She chose to keep on hearing. Not only with her ears, but with her heart.

And perhaps… that is the most beautiful hearing there is.

Reflection

How often do we take the time to truly listen? Not to the sound itself, but to the story behind it.

The human being behind it.

What if the “crackle” we sometimes hearis not a malfunction,but a signal?

An invitation.

To hear again.

To reconnect.

To live again.

—

Hearing is more than just the ears.

It is daring to tune in.

To who we are.

And to who we can be for each other.