friendship and silence

This time on New Year’s Eve, my father and I went out for lunch. Just the two of us. I can’t remember when was the last time we did this. Probably this time. Yeah. THAT long ago.


So anyway. I really did wonder what we would say to each other during lunch. Because, well, really, what is left to say? Dad does his bereavement through tears. I seem to be doing mine by cutting my hair to look like my mother. And the truth is, on most days, our bereavement feels out the silence, rolling along in the vacuum my mother has left behind.

There is so much silence that envelopes our time as a family now. To be honest, I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. But I can say one thing – for the first time in what has been possibly the roughest decade of our lives, the churning craziness seems to be standing still. There is so much mental noise and emotional noise that comes with financial strife. Terminal illnesses. Coma. Dialysis. Chemotherapy. Death.  Death makes things stand still. And so in the silence – and this is possibly the first time in a decade that we have had silence – we are actually just alone with our thoughts.


It’s new, this silence. I’ve not heard it before. I can’t recall having so much time to hear myself think. Because that’s what death vacuums do, they leave you with gaping holes of memories and emotions and wonder at what you could possibly be doing still left behind in this world.

So yes, I did wonder how we would survive an entire lunch in each other’s presence. My sister was travelling so this was really just me and dad going out together. And I have been spending a lot of days with dad since she was away and the only voices in our house have been the voices on the television.

Sigh.


But let me tell you about the lunch.

Well, dad chose a fancy restaurant.  We drank wine. His idea, not mine. But it felt cool to share a drink with my dad. We talked about his younger days. His days at the tennis club. His days back in college, when he and his friends used to organise disco nights with free entry for women. We fought over the bill, which was hysterical but I got it in the end.


I’m glad we went out. Conversation masks silence and a change of ambience can make you find a friend.