I am in two minds as to whether to share this story.
I believe I will, as it would mean an awful lot if something I said could/would/should make a difference to someone.
Topic is: communication through conversation and how much we take for granted.
My husband now has difficulty in communicating. He has described to me, the frustration of seeing a word and then it fades, quickly and he is left with a hollow feeling, that ne needs something, yet has no idea of what.
Sometimes he tells me a story, and I truly have no idea of what he is saying. Sometimes he tells me something perfectly and I check to see if my David is back. We find ways of communicating, and just when I get the hang of it, I need to change tactic again, as I realize something else is proving too foreign for him.
I see my David as though he is falling far away into the depths of a hole, like Alice. I'm peering down and I cannot fall in after him - it's not in the rule book or the chapter listings.
As much as my intelligence, love, whatever it is, allows me to have and to hold, my impatience gets the better of me and an anger that I have living in me, suddenly comes out. It is truly a nasty anger. It is, however, extremely young and shows off like a six year old leaving a party before the cake is cut.
This week end touched on the subject of taste, and it was suggested to me that I have none. Now instead of reminding myself that I have an 'Ignore' button and that I have heard worse within the B.A.T zone (Bermuda Alzheimer Triangle), I act up to the comment and a million other memories that have nothing to do with my husband, yet I am angry and bitter about them all. Result: I packed up a number of things that I had bought for David, or bought for the house and threw them in my car. Drove and donated them to a charity shop! Yep - packed them up in a couple of baskets and donated the lot!
Now the really, really, stupid thing is that my dear David would not notice if I painted my face purple and wore a Lady Gaga costume. So how would he notice that a wooden duck statue is no longer by the television. The person who ends up hurting is me, because I loved my wooden duck.
The fact and truth I wish to share is, when you are fortunate enough to have ears, tongue, eyes, limbs, everything functioning - do not waste moments with mindless communication. Just talk. It is a privilege to be able to do so. If the other person can only add dead worms to the conversation, then that is all you will ever receive. Stop imagining they will suddenly quote Ghandi. They won't!
Stop playing games or holding onto past battles and wins. Listen, think and be honest. I sit in meetings and see mouths working and yet nobody listening. People playing chess, with the intention of making the other player lose - yet nobody has any pieces because there is no game of chess!
I wonder what in our human chemistry makes us this way? Is that why there is illness, in the hope that it inspires others to do differently?
Why do we bother learning languages when we can't be bothered to talk the truth?
If you ever feel that the only way you can be understood is by donating your own things to make someone realize something - than you have it so wrong.
If you start with fear and anger - how will the other person answer? Most likely with their fear and anger.
And so it goes.
I am ashamed of how I acted this week end. I know better and I am going to learn.
I am also going back to the charity shop and, buying back my wooden duck.
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