As I am sitting here typing, my honey walked in to take a survey on his laptop. I am grateful he is silent. But I know how long his silence will last. He just asked MY opinion on his survey questions. I'm waiting him out. I shrugged. He left. I am sitting here appreciating the solitude, thinking silence is golden!
When my children were small, like these two sweet great grandsons of mine, they chattered endlessly, fought over the slightest thing, and played noisily together. When they were completely quiet I jumped up to see what they were into. If I could hear their banter I was assured they were fine. Their silence was alarming.
When they got older and were preteens, they waited until I was napping on the couch to ask me questions. They say they got away with a lot because I always answered yes when they asked if they could go to a friend's house or have a snack.
Hubby swears I interact with television conversation when I am going to sleep. My adult kids agree.
Silence can be deafening...
When I was about ten years old, my mom cleaned a church on Saturdays. I was allowed stay in the children's room and use the art supplies. The absence of sound almost made me crazy. I could hear the roar of my own blood in my eardrums. I detested the silence.
The other day I awoke after a short nap and was completely deaf. I could see the TV characters speaking, but I could not hear them. It lasted only a moment, but really concerned me. I was relieved to realize the volume was muted. Whew!
After the horrific events of 9/11, the skies went absolutely quiet. There was no air traffic whatsoever, no contrail designs in the sky, no jet engines roaring, no helicopters whizzing. The silence was deafening, unnatural.
When my honey goes to a doctor's appointment, and I am in the house alone, I appreciate the silence, but before long, that silence becomes deafening. I wish I could make up my mind.