Today I read some great words by M from at the Maybe Baby as a guest post here. Words  on a topic I have wished to be more vocal about.  I have seen first hand the need of so many families. Families that look a lot like every other family you know. Because they are everyday families.  Not lazy. Not bad. Not anything but super caring and trying to make a hard situation work.

What kind of a hard situation. Well in my old job I used to find myself in kitchens listening to parents, often mothers, talk.  The pretense was that I was there to do an evaluation as a speech therapist. The reality is that some of these mothers hadn’t had a proper conversation with anyone who would listen in a very long time.  why?  Well they were being too busy and not-lazy  in their raising 2+ kids with autism, or a son who is on a ventilator and needs 24 hour nursing care, or their husband has a tramatic brain injury and can’t safely stay home alone with the kids, or a number of things that can happen to anyone.

And so they love and they work and they care and sometimes the money runs out at the end of the month… or they  could use some professional support from people who know something about whatever thing your child has that you are trying to balance with the realities a childhood and family life.. oh and may be you need some medical supplies and a wheelchair transport option when your van you fundraiser for is in the shop.  I would ask any of you if you have space in your budget for half of that… but the thing I hear the most, is what is going to happen when they grow up.

These parents look at me and want me to tell them that things will be fine. To tell stories about other families whose children are older.  And you know, I have lots of great stories. But not so many about what happens after kids become adults… because without support, it is hard for many people with disabilities to fully support themselves.  And I have yet to met someone who doesn’t want the dignity of independence when they become and adult and for most people, that means not depending on their parents for everything.

I for one am happy to pay taxes to support all of that… because family and religious groups and non-profits and all the rest can’t cobble together all the support needed.  Society is complex.  The needs are real. And I for one want more for the children I meet at work than what was consider fine 50 years.

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I also read a great post by Esperanza about the balance about career and work and all these bloody expectations on us women.  Go read it… I loved it.

But the part that I want to write about here is when she calls here husband, and tries to thank him for all the hard work he’s been doing around the house.  A thank you for picking up the slack… and to feel out that all is okay.  And she gets silence.  And it stings.

I have no idea what was meant on the other side of that phone. Just like I have no idea what was going on inside of my bosses head today.  But his silence between words just slayed me.

Granted I was a bit off… I had to write a goodbye letter to a family member who is dying. Something another family member can bring and read to him. My boss knew this, and was fine with it. Later in the day he asks if I have 5 minutes to talk about the draft I gave him for some research I am doing.

Sure, of course.

And I sit down in his office and he starts with “so about this paper…. (5 sec pause)… I read it and made some comments (7 sec pause)… ” I ask about the comments. He turns away.  “I…. I just am not happy (10 second silence)… I am not happy…. I am not happy…”

Have I mentioned I am a slightly anxious person at times….  Why is he saying this.. what is he not happy about?  I can’t think of any other topic other than me or the paper.

This goes on and on. I just breath and count the seconds between the silences.  It is awful. He says he isn’t happy at least 6 times.  I finally ask if I can look at the paper, as I am reading over it (with no comments so I have no idea what he is referring to), he just keeps saying how unhappy and frustrated he is.

Eventually we move on to a topic.. and then as he is giving me a stack of papers to read, he says it again, “I just am really unhappy.”  And I lose it.

“You brought me here to Italy.. you invited me to this lab from the other side of the world . you wanted me here to bring the linguistic/communication perspective. What exactly to you want me to do.. tell me.. what exactly are you not happy with!?!”

And he mumbled that he was frustrated with his ability to support me and understand me and help me with my research.

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I still don’t know if he was unhappy with me or not.  From my point of view, that many silences and avoiding actually stating what you are so upset about it classically what people do when they can’t believe you are too dense to figure out why they are mad at you.  At the same time, I did spend an hour trying to explain data to him about how silence in conversation matters. How it means something if someone asks a question and the person says nothing. A question like, “um, did I do something wrong…” is not something you ignore and then 10 seconds later say “I just am really unhappy about it”

And so, all I know, is that at the end of the day silences matter too. He could have said anything to me.. ANYTHING.. no matter how critical or harsh and it would have been easier than to be trapped  in his office trying to read between the lines and breathing through those dreadful silences.  With words, any words, there is tone of voice. It lets a person know where you stand.. that all is okay in the relationship.

Silence denies the person that reassurance.  I can deal with hard words and ill spoken words. Yes you can’t take them back, but you also can’t take back the unspoken interpretations of what someone does with silence.  I really hope I misread his silences, but unlike words, it is hard to start the process of figuring out what each other meant.  With words, you can follow up specifically and start to understand each other. With the long silences, I had no idea what to do with them… and soon they were filled with my worst fears