lend me thine ears...

I made the mistake of politely asking him if for the duration of breakfast at Sprouts we could talk about something other than his transitions at work, which for the last several weeks has been our sole topic. (save for the commercial breaks to talk about the economy) Big mistake.  In addition to the tongue lashing I received (hurt feelings packaged as anger) was the awkward silence as he pouted across the table from me. Noted.

I then reasoned that I am his only safe human audience and that saying 'I do' meant promising to listen to his ever-rotating topics whether they captivate me or not. And so I ask him what he was using my laptop for last night, already knowing the answer.

 

He can talk for hours about his job and what it requires of his unique mind. The hardest part of listening to it all is staying mentally present without speaking. If I've learned anything about him in all these years it's that he's rarely seeking answers. The answers are already there in his beautiful mind. It's just that they are usually buried beneath the clouds of worries or countless files of experience and knowledge that have accumulated there over the years. He just really needs my ears to help him organize things until he gets there on his own. I absorb the chaos. And I promised him I would. Not in so many words, and without realizing it at the time. When I see him working it out, word-by-word-by-word, I realize how very intelligent he is. I realize that he may well be some type of genius in his arena. And if someone isn't there for him to let him verbally sift through the mounds of information he has to deal with, he'll burst. I am that someone and forgive me for the times I'm not up for the job.