Not to long ago, my son that goes between two homes said to me: “mom you talk to much, go sew or something (my hobby!).” It may sound a little rude, but to understand him is to understand his response. We bantered back and forth a minute or so then he said, “I go from a house where I am barely spoken to, to a house where everyone wants to talk constantly.”
Like him, I am not a big talker by nature. I enjoy the silence. I enjoy getting lost inside my head, trying to work through everything that has gone on in the day. I enjoy my alone time, as fleeting as it is.
At the same, I understand that being around others who are encouraging is uplifting. For many years, as a child and into adulthood, silence has been my friend, not because I don’t enjoy other people, but because talking all the time is exhausting. My mind gets tired of trying to keep people entertained in conversation or in activity.
As a child, I didn’t talk much out of shyness.
As a teenager, I didn’t believe anyone wanted to listen to what I had to say.
As a young adult, it was a combonation of both.
And now, in my late thirties, I just don’ t care to talk much. Everything that can be said, has been said. Now, I just want to…..
And I can hear more in one moment of silence than I can hear in hours of conversation.
People really do just talk to darn much.
But, back to the beginning, I do go back to sewing or whatever task needs me at the time because I understand his need for silence. However, knowing what’s happening in his life keeps me going back to ‘talk’ to him periodically even if our talks are as short as, ‘hey buddy, I love you,’ or so.
Because, even in his silence and mine, I want him to know (1) he’s loved and (2) I am here if and when he needs me.
I’m really here. I’m not just present. I care about him. I care about his life. He makes a difference in my world and in the world as a whole.
Mostly, I want HIM to know that he’s somebody and to somebody, he is everything.
So no, I will not leave him alone.