Friday, July 29, 2011


It was several weeks - perhaps months - before I could turn on the radio.

I couldn't bear to hear songs that reminded me of places I had been; I couldn't bear to hear new songs that Robb wouldn't hear.

I have spent a lot of time in silence. It's a gentle companion with plenty of room for me.

It's the invisible guest who needs plenty of time to talk.

I used to bring the party with me; now I bring the quiet.

Sometimes it's the safest place I know.


Noel said...

I couldn't turn on the radio, either. It was a minefield. Nothing felt safe. But silence left me alone with my thoughts, and thinking too much made me cry too much. I used to spend my time in the car talking to my husband on the phone. So I needed something.

I had never been a fan of contemporary Christian music, so it was a completely unexplored genre for me. I somehow got ahold of Mercy Me's CD that has "homesick" on it (great song for people who grieve) and listened to that in one continuous year and a half loop. Finally in the last two months I feel ok with the radio.

Crazy, huh? I've heard this about a lot of us widows.

Mary Clare said...

"I used to bring the party with me, now I bring the quiet"

What a beautiful line!

Terry said...

silence is surely your treasure dearest is golden, you know.
you and noel i feel for even though i do not understand, i really do feel your terry

Maryellen said...

I find that noise in general is driving me crazy. My mother has a loud, harsh voice so I avoid being in the same room with her. The stores are the worst. Especially if they have an overhead PA system. Sometimes I just want to scream, "SHUT UP. Could everybody please just shut up!" Will this get better.
BTW, Hello Noel, I know who you are through Erin, my dear sweet friend who has lit the way for me too.