When I woke up that Sunday morning there was a slight drizzle outside. I laid in bed for a while staring out the window. I finally got up, watched him sleep for a moment and enjoyed the silence of the house.

I thought it was nice, peaceful and even quiet; he could have a couple more minutes of rest after the crazy rock’en’roll night.

So I started to make breakfast humming my favorite German song. 5, 10, 15 minutes and my own voice started to fade. No more sound of boiling water in the tea pot, no sound of knife cutting the butter.

I covered my ears trying to block out the silence. Nothing changed.

That’s when I  ran to the bedroom scared. “Say something, talk to me, I’m going deaf” and he didn’t woke up.