QUIET OBSERVATIONS . . .

I like this being alone thing. It not only makes me super-prolific as a blogger (any therapist worth her salt would definitely tell me that Bob, my laptop, is a source of security, an outlet for my inner thoughts, and that I should really learn to communicate better face-to-face with people instead of conveying all my thoughts and feelings via a computer), but makes me think in general. Mostly about happy things -- how I would live my life, how I hope my life turns out, how I'm glad I am the way I am or how I should change certain not-so-great things about myself. My day has come full circle, and so, I believe, have my thoughts. I began my morning with a knot in the pit of my stomach watching a tired, haggard, end-of-her-rope mother try to deal unsuccessfully with her three small children, and began the end of my day with a serene and filling dinner, listening to murmured and intimate conversations undulate around me.

There were lots of pairs of friends in the dining room tonight, mostly gal pals. Myself and an older woman were the only singletons in the small room, all of us being served by just two waitpersons. At the far end of our row sat a woman in a spa robe, her hair still wet from something or other, laughingly declaring that she had to order from the special low-calorie "Spa Menu," but getting the crabcake appetizer, the steak dinner, and TWO mini-cheesecakes, as well as a milky-looking cocktail ... she was effervescent and brash-sounding, but cute nonetheless in the way she enjoyed her meal and carried on a hilarious conversation with her dinner mate. I could be friends with her ...

One table closer to me sat the other singleton -- an older woman, probably about 65 years old. She seemed ... bitter. And declared food allergies galore. Ultimately, she ordered the salmon, but indicated that she could not have certain shellfish, pork, certain vegetables, and a certain type of sauce base associated with her salmon. My prevailing thought: why even bother? The dish came back near-naked, but our waiter was more than gracious, even when she actually PICKED up a decorative piece of sundried tomato from the top of the salmon filet and FLUNG it off her plate. I could definitely not be friends with her ...

Next to me sat the loveliest couple-in-their-60s that I had ever laid eyes upon. The husband, 6 feet tall with a kind craggy face; the wife, 5 feet tall with a smooth face lined with 60 years' worth of laughs and giggles. They sat and murmured their way through the meal, and were just too cute for words. In fact, they ORDERED for each other! Normally, I think that would probably cause me to faux-gag, but in the moment, it showed me how they cared for each other, how they made the tiniest moves to display their continuing regard for each other. And the best part: they were asking each other trivia questions! Even while referring to their long life spent together, one would ask the other "so, what was your favorite book as a child?" or "what was your favorite toy and what happened to it?" or "what book are you reading now and what do you like about it?" To have been together for so long, apparently, and to still be discovering things about each other ... if I didn't have food in my mouth, I would have shed a smiley tear or two. As it was, I was listening too intently to their conversation and at the same time, was very focused on not showing that I was listening so intently ... my only thought was: I hope I grow old with someone about whom I will always continue to learn new things, for whom I will never run out of questions, whose food choices I can predict, whom I can trust with my own food choices. Those things sound so miniscule and insignificant in the grand scheme of a life-long relationship, and honestly, I can only think of one man in my entire life with whom I could even begin to live out any of those hopes, but ... I want to be them when I'm 60 ...

Another couple of hours and my vacation companions will join me, and my self-imposed silence will be over. I always enjoyed Retreats of Silence in my college Christian Fellowship days. Today was a lot -- me, alone with all my thoughts for almost an entire day. In fact, my voice is a bit hoarse from non-use. I spoke with C and M earlier, and I had to strain to make noise come out of my throat. I expect by tomorrow, I'll be back to my normal talkative self. Or I might sit back and listen to my friends instead and see what's going on inside their heads. Or maybe we'll all just sit quietly and listen to the conversations around us, thinking, thinking, thinking ...