“The holidays are cozy,” I said curled up in an armchair palming my mug of eggnog.
“It’s a good time of year,” Mr. Wonderful said throwing
another log on the fire.
“No labor, no sweat.”
“Just fun times and good drinks.”
“But don’t you miss the… work?”
Silence.
Mr. Wonderful said a lot—in his silences. In fact the first
six months we dated, he didn’t say a word. Of course that could have been
because of me and my big, non-stop motor mouth that has to share every idea
with those I care about to get their take on things and to see if we really are
compatible because life and relationships are constantly in flux and by talking
with each other we can air concerns and check in on with how each other’s doing
and where we are heading in the grand scheme of things—
On second thought: maybe Mr. Wonderful was silent so much
because I never gave him a chance to speak? ...Nah.
After a couple years of marriage I’d gotten very good at
reading Mr. Wonderful’s silences. There was the silence of 1) Agreement; of 2)
Disagreement; and of 3)
I’m-not-going-to-touch-that-with-a-ten-foot-pole-greement.
Now this particular silence on this particular day between
Christmas and New Year’s was clearly a Cat. #1 Silence—aka Agreement. Deep down
I knew that he missed working at the studio, working on the house, working on
the big hole in the backyard—aka the pool. Well lucky for him I had a DIY
project to do!
“The kitchen cabinet interiors need to be painted.”
“Why? No one sees them.”
“I do. Every day.”
Silence.
Another silence. Wow. Mr. Wonderful was super talkative
today!
When we’d moved in to The House we were so busy with our
jobs and getting settled we were forced to make choices. We'd decided to paint
the kitchen cabinets on the outside but not the inside. When I had lamented
this choice, Mr. Wonderful countered by saying how it didn’t matter since “no
one sees the inside.”
“I do. Every day,” I’d said then. He responded with a
silence. Comparing our move-in exchange to our current one I realized they were
exactly the same, which meant painting cabinet interiors was vitally important
to me while he embraced a Cat. #2 silence—aka he totally disagreed.
How could I have not heard what he’d said then? How could I have not heard his wishes? How
could I hear what his silences said if he was so dang quiet?! Ever since the Fourth of July, we’d both been
busy with work, working and workers. That’s it!
We were disagreeing about this DIY project because for months we just hadn’t spent enough
time together. Luckily I had a plan for that!
“Let’s paint the inside of the cabinets together!”
Silence.
Incredible! He'd heard me! Now Mr. Wonderful was screaming this
silence! And it was the mother of them all: a Cat. #3—aka I’m not getting involved
PERIOD.
“Thanks for telling me what you want,” I said hugging Mr.
Wonderful. “I’ll paint it myself.”
Silence. More Cat. #3 from my spouse! Amazing! We were
having a fabulous conversation!
The New Year and its resolutions were still a few days away
but here at the tail end of 2013, I realized two I’d put on my 2014 list:
1) Get some brushes, sandpaper and white paint.
2) Have more silent conversations with Mr. Wonderful!
My own dear hubby has a silent level akin to that vacuum we call space. It's possibly why I write mysteries. But if you can read the silence, it's all good. And if you misread the silence, you can always say, "But you didn't tell me not to."
ReplyDeleteHi Gayle,
DeleteThis sounds so familiar! I think our spouses would have a lot of nothing to say to each other! We should try to organize something... Enjoy today!
--Alicia
LOL its hubby & I reversed. He is never silent! Have fun painting those cabinets!
ReplyDeleteHappy New Year!
Hi Patty!
DeleteI think in most relationships there's one loud mouth and one quiet one! It seems you got the better deal! Wishing you a wonderful New Year with family, friends and good times! All the best to you! Enjoy tonight, whatever you do!
--Alicia