Silence

I'm spending the week with my aunt and uncle, for the Thanksgiving holiday. Mother, Brother, and SIL are all staying with the other aunt. Both these households are in the same town, as are the households of all my cousins and their kids … basically everyone in the extended family except for me, Mother, Brother+SIL, Son 1, Son 2+Beryl, … and I guess Wife if you still count her. (In other words, this means everyone except those of us named "Tanatu.") But we're here this week: not the boys, that is, and not Wife. The rest of us.

What's remarkable to me is how quiet it is here. My aunt and uncle aren't unsociable. But for the most part they don't chatter needlessly. I talked with my aunt about public affairs for a little while over breakfast this morning. And when we all get together for dinner this evening I'm sure they'll both be part of those conversations too. But in between times, it seems like mostly they talk if there's something that has to be said. Right now my aunt is making a pecan pie in the kitchen while my uncle is cleaning up stuff she no longer needs. She just remarked, "I'll probably need that spatula." I think those were the first words spoken in the last five minutes. Before that I told her to let me know if I could help in any way, and she said "OK." Before that, the two of them coordinated briefly on tonight's dinner. But there hasn't been a lot of conversation.

This would have driven Father crazy, and in fact he had multiple troubles relating to them. Some of these troubles were political; some stemmed from the awkward fact that his social skills froze in the 1960's, even as social expectations changed radically all around him. But their willingness to accept silence couldn't have helped.

The problem for Father was that he needed constant social validation. He had a clawing need to know that he was OK and accepted. But the only way he knew to meet this need was to talk to anyone around him, all the time. If he could entertain you, he would. But even negative interaction was better than none, so if he couldn't entertain you he would argue with you. If he couldn't find something to argue about, he might resort to needling you about one of your sore spots. Anything to keep the conversation going. Silence terrified him.

Last year -- I think it was last year -- I admit it started to get to me too. The sitting quietly, or immersion in their respective phones, began to get on my nerves. I may have written about it then. [Hmm. No, I just looked and I don't see anything of the kind. I guess I thought about writing something but was too lazy actually to do it.] 

But this year I'm just going with it. I can use the time to write the things I post under my real name. For a couple hours this afternoon I tried to fix a problem where my phone wouldn't sync correctly. And in general I simply realize that I don't have to let it be a problem for me.

Heaven knows I spend plenty of time alone in the normal course of my day. Silence is something I'm very used to, in that context. 

It can be good.