Unsaid Words
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Some of my fondest memories with my dad involved hot pretzels and a cold bench seat.
Come fall, my dad and I would watch every home game that our local college football team had to offer. On game day he’d show up at my door like a little kid waiting for his parents to awake on Christmas morning. He’d try and act all serious as he’d talk about how we ‘needed to get going’. And yet he couldn’t hide his childish grin, even behind his red mustache.
The ride to the game was filled with the sounds of pregame gossip coming from the radio. We’d hurry to find a place to park and then start our journey to the stadium. As we walked, the crowds grew larger and the excitement multiplied. Finally reaching the gates, we were ready to enter with our game faces on.
While the pigskin continuously changed sides, my dad and I cheered and booed with the best of them. Most of our verbal communication consisted of, “Did you see that catch?!” or, “I can’t believe they fumbled!?!” The depth of our words barely broke the surface as we chanted the school song after every touchdown.
Then after the game, we made our way back to the car and listened to the post game show up until the time we arrived back at my house. Finishing off the night we said our goodbyes; “Thanks for taking me to the game, dad.” “No problem.” “See you later.” “Bye.”
Throughout the course of the day our words were either shallow or non existent. But it was our unsaid communication that filled in the gaps.
Connecting on a deeper level.
Many people feel that you can’t truly bond with another human being without deep conversation. That somehow certain words can encapsulate true connection better than mutual life experience. My dad and I had very few deep conversations. It wasn’t until he was dying that we even spoke about something like death. But even before then, we were best of friends and shared a strong bond. We didn’t need to talk about serious things to understand the others’ depth and passion for life.
It was in sharing something like a football game that we found time and opportunity to connect on a deeper level. On the outside we were focused on the action, but deep down we had our arms around each other, just enjoying the moment. I knew he loved me and he knew I loved him. That’s all that mattered and together we enjoyed the day.
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Eric,
Great post.
I’m a firm believer that you don’t have to speak to communicate. Spending time with people we love does most of the talking for us.
Actions speak louder than words.
Jeff
I’m a born communicator, my father is not. It is mostly the unsaid things between us which make our moments golden. Even my wife, with whom I speak endlessly to, enjoys long periods of quiet when all were hearing is the breathing of the other.
I loved this post, Eric.
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I’m more of the kind of person who would rather talk when I can find the energy to do so. I sure hope that I won’t find myself regretting on the times missed out not being able to say the words that will help build others back up.
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I remember a kid when I was a camp counsellor, ages ago. Half of our kids came from children’s homes (and that was the good half).
One of them, F. behaved and looked in size four years younger. He did not speak much, and when he did it was with a voiced that reminded me of a mix of Donald Duck and Leonard Cohen.
But he needed not to. We just sat together.
I still cherish those moments as some of the best of my life, and more fruitful.
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@Jeff: “Actions speak louder than words.”
Exactly.
@Sean: My wife and I also enjoy those quiet moments. Sometimes I feel we are more accurately sharing our feelings during those times then when we open our mouths.
@Daniel: Building other people up with words is certainly very important.
@Miguel: Thanks for sharing that story. I can see you understand where I’m coming from.
I remember my grandpa was a man of few words. My favorite moments were of me sitting with him out under the tree in his yard. He would smoke cigarettes and drink tea and I would just sit on the chair next to him, dangling my legs looking up at him in awe.
I knew he loved me even without words. Thanks for writing something that brought this memory back to me. He died when I was 13 and it wasn’t until years later that I found out he talked about those times to my mom in a rare ‘discussion’. He enjoyed them as much as I.
I think when you are really comfortable with someone you can simply be in their presence. There is no need to force conversation. Nice post! Thanks for sharing it.
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@Tawnya: Thank you SO MUCH for sharing that with us! I be it really made your hear soar when you found out he mutually enjoyed those moments that similar thoughts of endearment.
Tawnya: That was a wonderful snippet of a story. Thanks for sharing it.
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@Tawnya: Glad you enjoyed it.