I’m looking forward to a road trip with my Dad next month. I haven’t spent much time in the car with him lately, but I imagine we’ll probably listen to music and have a few conversations, and there will be miles and miles of silence. I’m just fine with that.
The older I get, the more I appreciate the gift of silence.
I’m convinced I was an obnoxious chatterbox of a little girl. Apparently, the processing of thoughts and emotions by my brain took place via my mouth. Also, when I felt anxious about what another person might be thinking, I talked and talked in the hopes of eliciting an assuring response.
It’s quite possible I still do the same thing with words on a page. But on the page, I can delete and re-word and limit the verbal barrage.
Almost 42 years of life with my husband, who is definitely NOT a chatterbox, have helped me learn to enjoy simply being together in silence.
And on that happy note, I will leave you, dear reader, with an encouragement to relish the gift of silence with someone you love.