Vienna, My Father and the One Regret that Haunts Me

I grew up in a loving family. A mother who was a true mama bear who showered us with love and attention and a disciplinarian father who loved us dearly but with whom communication was rather limited. My dad was either born with significant hearing loss or lost most of his hearing at a young age because of some medical trauma. Doctors usually think that babies born with severe hearing loss cannot develop proper language skills which wasn’t the case of my father.

And for a man born between the two great wars there weren’t many options to get help. The only support structure was the family and yet he never lost hope to find a way to recover his hearing and spent a fortune in the ‘50’s and 60’s traveling to France and Germany looking for a miracle cure. To the amazement of his German doctors, he managed to learn and become fluent in German while visiting them to try various treatments.

With my mom, he formed an amazing loving couple that went on to have four kids that made them proud. And while it was never easy to have extended conversations with my father, we knew how deeply he loved us and how much it meant for him to see us excel at work and in life for he lived vicariously through us. He was a smart ambitious man who never managed to get past the 6th grade because failing the dictation exam barred anybody from getting into high school. He still went on to have a good career as a government employee in the judiciary and later as administrator of the national Radio/TV employee healthcare company. From the perspective of his society, he overachieved but from his he didn’t even scratch the surface of his vast potential.

I have always been puzzled by his refusal to use hearing aids which became more prevalent in the 70’s and 80’s but my father’s strong sense of pride didn’t align well with a Tunisian society that mocked people with any disability. He briefly used some hearing aids to get his Driver’s License and buy a car but the sensory overload brought upon by the new devices was too much of a burden after decades of quiet.

I am the son of my father. I took many attributes from him that people in my various circles perceive, the visible and the subtle. I am loud and my voice travels! Years of speaking loudly and watching TV set on high volume transform a person. Which brings me to Vienna and the very reason that brought me here.

My dad enjoyed music in spite of his disability and the one show that gave him a great pleasure was the Vienna New Year’s Concert. Classical music had the kind of audio frequency and rhythmic percussion that my dad seemed to hear and enjoy. To me, January 1st always meant sitting down with him and the family to watch this show and enjoy the Strauss family music. This was a yearly tradition that I have always enjoyed and will treasure for life. I set a goal for myself that as soon as I can afford it, I will surprise my dad and mom with a trip to Vienna to attend the show. It would have been the best gift to a well traveled father who has seen it all otherwise.

But as my means grew and the goal became achievable, cancer got in the way and traveling turned virtually impossible. Still, I regret not trying harder to make this happen. The most important thing in life is to create lasting memories and having my dad attend the New Year’s Concert at the beautiful Musikverein would have been one of my and my dad’s greatest memories.

And although today is not January 1st and my dad has been gone for close to 8 years, I felt great emotions visiting the venue and taking pictures.

May you Rest In Peace. This regret will always stay with me.