It’s the silence

So many things. So much missing. But it’s the silence that I notice most.

No background noise, the sounds of someone cooking, the clatter and occasional mumble. The sound of a breakage or mishap.

No sound of breathing (snoring) at night. That’s the worst thing. Never thought I would miss that so much.

The radio, once a constant companion, now a fleeting friend. The Archers were a source of amusement to me, Sally was a huge fan. The theme tune alone sends me off. I avoid Radio 4 after 9am, just in case.  BBC6 Music likewise, too many bloody good tunes that we both loved. I daren’t listen to Craig Charles on Saturday.

The chats, conversations, comments. All gone. Silence reigns supreme. Apart from the occasional dog fart and traffic noise.

Gone are the cheeky text messages, heralded by a Sally chosen alert sound. The phones rarely ring.

Never was a big fan of the idiot lantern. So that stays silent too, mostly. Unless there is a safe film on, one that doesn’t have any connection. Old black and white films are best, especially war films. They are my connection to another time, not with Sally, to my childhood and youth.

So that’s silence.

Let’s not talk about touch.

 

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