All the Way Across the Sky

It had rained just a tiny bit (though the thunder had been quite more significant), and I stepped out the front door to go fetch lettuce for the bunnies. And lo and behold, there it was, all the way across the sky. 

Lovely.

Are there Birthday Candles in Gan Eden?

 Herself speaks.

My lovely Daddy would have turned ninety-two today.  

Happy birthday, Daddy. 

I miss you. I don't want to dwell on sad things on your birthday, but I have to say that nothing is the same without you here any more. I miss your calm reliability, your dignified presence, your quiet kindness, your good humor.  I hope that wherever you are now, you are enjoying peace, beautiful music, and love all around you, and that the care that you showed people during your lifetime is returned one hundred-fold to you. 

You were an exemplary human being. If there were more people like you in the world, it would be an infinitely better place. 

Twenty-Five

 Herself speaks.

It has been twenty-five years since the planes crashed into the twin towers.

I remember where I was when I heard:  I had just parked down the block from the grade school, and was walking Offspring the First and Offspring the Second to class (Offspring the Third being too young to go to school yet), when another mother just ahead of me on the sidewalk said something about it. It didn't seem possible or too serious, yet.

Oh, how little we knew then. 

The unimaginable unfolded over the course of the morning, and by the time I fetched Offspring the First and Offspring the Second at the end of the school day, the world was never the same. 

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It is still horrifying to see photographs from September 11. The World Trade Center and New York City, the Pentagon, the Flight 93 field. It will never not be shocking. I always think of the statement by Obi-wan Kenobi in Star Wars, when he says: "I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I fear something terrible has happened." The ghosts from that day, in those places, will forever remain. 

We remember the lost, and we honor them. 

Godspeed.

For The Birds

 The birds have been quite adept at tidying up any dropped kitty food on the patio. And then some. 

Inside Friends

 While we are viewing kitty pictures, let us enjoy some pictures of Offspring the Third's kitties, who are paying us a visit. 

One inside kitty supervises outside tuxedo kitty. 

Comfy kitty. 

Comfy kitty, again. 

Two kitties momentarily sharing a nest. 

Pensive kitty. 

Kitty on a teeny couch.

Comfy couch.

Stretch

Allow me to give you a more detailed introduction to the tuxedo cat who started the kitty-food-buffet on the back patio. 

She (I am assuming) did us the kindness of relaxing very near the camera the other day, so that we could get a good view of her face. When she is feeling serene, she stretches -- including a stretch of all of the toe beans -- before departing from the yard. 

I have an inordinate fondness for her. I cannot try to domesticate her, because we have Offspring the Third's kitties inside and cannot add a further kitty to the mix, but I will do my best to ensure that she has a safe place to stay in the yard, and food and water readily available.

Good kitty. 

Weaponized Silence

 Herself speaks.

Let's talk about Silence. 

On the one hand, I enjoy -- and require -- silence: the kind of quiet that exists when the house is empty except for me and a few pets; when there is not traffic, nor leaf blowers, nor vacuuming pressing the ear, when there is no television, nor news, nor intrusion of the outside world. Perhaps a bit of rain, or the wind whispering -- that adds to, rather than subtracts from, the silence. 

On the other hand, too much silence -- or silence at the wrong time -- is oppressive. When silence stretches beyond comfort into loneliness, it becomes very loud in an enclosed space.  And when silence blossoms where I have expected (or at least hoped for) communication (whether electronic or verbal), that, for me, is the worst of all. 

In this era of immediate availability via phone, text, and email, it is very easy to become frustrated without a prompt response. Nevertheless, it's important to remember with whom one is corresponding. The vast majority of my Important People generally do not reply speedily: Beloved Husband, the Offspring, Cherished Friend, my siblings -- they all are extremely busy and (especially for those who do not live right here), may not return a message within minutes, or an hour, or a day or two. I spend a lot of time consciously reminding myself that a lack of communication does not mean that they do not care. 

I do not always succeed, though, for there is a monster that sits inside this kind of silence, and whispers in the smallest yet most clearly audible voice, every time: they do not answer because they do not care. They have no interest in what you have to say. You are bothering them. You are making them uncomfortable by trying to talk to them when they clearly do not want to talk to you. They would be happy if you left them alone. They do not want to hear from you. This is a Terrible Silence. And it is nearly unbearable. 

-----

When I was young, there were certain adults within my extended orbit who utilized The Silent Treatment on others. It was very confusing. To have to guess what a Deliberate Silence meant -- sometimes with accompanying Significant Glances -- was always next to impossible. The only thing that was clear, was that the person at whom the Silence was directed had done something Wrong, and that they were somehow expected to know what it was and magically make amends without a word being said. To question why Silent Treatment was happening, was somehow a further victimization of the offended person who had initiated the Silent Treatment in the first place, and further Problems would ensue in that case. 

I could never figure it out. Silence was weaponized in this horrible way, and I did not know how to address it. 

I resolved to always try to be straightforward in my communication. And I have tried. Over time, though, I have ever so slowly learned that various permutations of Silent Treatment -- including Hiding From Conversation, Deflecting/Denying Involvement, Walking Away, DARVO, and Just Saying Nothing -- exist. It's all a horror. Terrible Silence in myriad forms. 

And so, I have a visceral horror of Terrible Silence. Not the cosy, home-y, baking cookies on a rainy day Silence, but the abandoning, indifferent Silence that is filled with that negative whispering Voice. 

What can I do to avoid this kind of Terrible Silence? I cannot put "RSVP" on every communication -- that's just silly -- and making the assumption that a communication has been received and read, without any indicia thereof ("read receipt" does not always apply), does not truly provide enough knowledge about the fate of the communication to satisfy the need to be heard. The awkwardness of sitting in person and waiting for someone to say something in response is unparalleled, too. 

I am slowly resorting to "saying less." It is definitely NOT an ideal solution, because I say less and less about what is important to me to the people I care most about. But if I don't communicate (orally or via the written word), I don't risk bothering them and triggering a Terrible Silence so reminiscent of a Weaponized Silence. 

Weaponized Silence is cruel. I still know people who use it. I will never be one of them.