My Son Brought Me to Tears Gifting Me a Hearing Aid So I Could Hear the Song He Wrote for Me – Story of the Day

Sharon had been overworking herself to the point of endangering her life, all for the sake of her son. Little did she know he had the most beautiful surprise planned for her.

Ten years! I stayed in a loveless marriage for ten years, despite knowing that any day, my husband could walk out on me to be with his younger, richer mistress.

I kept hoping things would get better, not for my sake but for the sake of our boy, Andrew. He's always been the center of my universe, my Andrew. And I didn't want him to face the struggles of coming from a broken home.

But the inevitable happened. The man ended it and left his wife and 9-year-old son with nothing to fall back on and nowhere to go.

I picked up our bags and stepped out into the world, hoping it would be kind to an abandoned woman and her 9-year-old child.

We survived the first two weeks living in the room of my very reluctant distant cousin. Andrew hated it there – he was happier living in the dingy apartment we could afford to rent a few weeks later.

I had a hard time finding any decent job, let alone a stable one, because of my lack of education. So we didn't have much, but there was always food on the table. For Andy, at least.

I would tuck him in bed every night and then sit at the kitchen table and think of ways to try and make the next day better.

"What's that on your ear?" he asked with a knowing smile.

Pretty soon, I was working three different jobs and taking up every odd job nobody else wanted to do — cleaning toilets, walking dogs, flipping burgers, selling scraps — you name it. I was so overworked that, at one point, I hadn't slept for three nights in a row. I was barely eating either, so every time I picked up something heavy or walked too long, my body would almost shut down for a few seconds…

"If I can just pull through for a few more months," I would think, catching my breath before getting back at it, "Just a few more months, Sharon!"

It had been close to four years, and I was still working myself to exhaustion. And when I'd finally get home, I'd bring Andy home from the house next door — the kind woman there has been the rainbow in my cloud, watching my boy for several hours every day ever since we moved there.

Mrs. Robinson lived alone, and she appreciated Andy's company.

"Your boy has the voice of an angel!" she'd tell me.

It killed me that I didn't have the time to hear him sing or tell me about his day. It killed me that I didn't even have the time to sing him lullabies as he fell asleep on my hand anymore.

"Just a few more months," I'd tell myself, falling asleep on the little puddle of my tears in bed.

Was I falling asleep or falling unconscious? I couldn't tell anymore…I didn't care.

Not until the fateful morning when I was frantically looking for the house keys, worried about getting late for work.

I had a long day ahead of me, but I didn't even make it to the front door of my own house. I tried to move the couch to see if the keys had fallen behind it. My Andy, now a 13-year-old, was enjoying the last few spoonfuls of his cereal. That's when it happened.

He heard a thud and came rushing out to find his mother passed out on the floor near the couch.

What would have gone through the poor boy's mind? I still shudder thinking about it…

The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital to the touch of Andy's hand on my shoulder and an unsettling murmur all around me.

The doctors hovering over my bed brought me a document for me to read, which I thought was unusual. I read that I had fallen unconscious from sleep deprivation and dangerously low blood sugar, but this time, I had hit my head against the wooden edge of the couch as I fell.

And then came the worst news: The fall had caused me to temporarily drop my sense of hearing to 20%. That explained the menacing, muffled noises around me. I cried inconsolably, crumpling up the paper in anguish.

"What am I going to do now?" I thought as I looked at Andy. He was saying, "I love you, mom!" and it killed me again that I could barely hear him say it.

Mrs. Robinson helped as much as she could with the hospital formalities, but I knew my struggles were only about to get bigger.

From what I understood, the doctors recommended wearing a hearing aid. It was a delicate thing that cost an arm and a leg, and who had that kind of money?!

Six months went by, and I was still on my own, with no support system to ease my mind. I was still working long hours; only this time, I was forcing myself to eat and sleep just the right amount to keep me from falling unconscious again.

Eventually, my pay did keep getting better when I managed to find a more permanent day job working from home.

But what hurt me the most was the silence it created between my son and me. A few years ago, you couldn't get him to stop talking. But there he was now, spending most evenings at his friends' house until it was almost dinnertime. And when he did spend time at home, he was holed up in his room with his headphones on, strumming a tune on a borrowed guitar and singing…

"If only I could hear him sing again!" I often wished as I heard faint music coming from his room.

But nothing prepared me for my wish to be fulfilled just a few weeks later.

I woke up that morning to the spirited chirping of birds, the horns and beeps of the traffic on the street outside, and a strange tingling in my right ear.

But I was about to hear the sweetest sound I had ever known.

"Mom?" Andy's voice went straight to my heart.

I turned, and he was sitting on a chair at the foot of my bed. He had a smile on his face and a guitar in his hand.

"What's that on your ear?" he asked with a knowing smile.

I felt my ear—and there was indeed something there.

"Is there a…hearing aid?" I asked, as my voice faded in disbelief at the end of that question.

"It is, mom! How does it feel?" he asked me, still sitting in front of me with wide misty eyes.

"It feels...Where did you get this from? It feels incredible!"

It turns out my big boy had taken up tutoring and had been saving all his earnings to buy me the expensive hearing aid.

That's why he was at his friend's place. Because he knew if I caught him, I would never have let him share the burden of earning money.

"Mom, listen to this. I've been working on a song…a song that I wrote for you," Andy said, and he began strumming.

All this while, I had thought that I had no support system, that I was out in the cold by myself, left to pick up the pieces of my life. But that day, as I heard what Andy had done for me, I knew I was wrong.

My tears flowed to his divine voice as I realized he was the greatest support system in my life–and with the strength of his love, I knew I could move mountains.

What can we learn from this story?

• Children have a way of opening our hearts and easing our burdens. Andrew was only 13, but he put his mother's worried heart at ease in the most unexpected way.
• Let's take care of those who've raised us through the hardest times. We need more Andrews in the world who go out of their way to show love and support for the tired hearts that raised them.

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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about another mother who struggled to take care of her baby while her husband refused to help, until she fell asleep behind the wheel one day.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.