Well, it’s happened again.
As a result,*I* now wanna chat about something from which everyone else has moved on:
I watched the discourse on Facebook (“Who saw Parenthood last night? OMG I cried!”) and thought I had more than enough drama in my life to ever choose television which didn’t make me laugh.
I was wrong.
I learned from the Bravermans.
I longed to be a Braverman.
I cheered for Julia. I rooted for Joel. I wrongly assumed I’d dislike Ray Romano as Hank (not usually a fan).
I learned about Asperger’s syndrome from Max. I admired Jasmine’s strength.
I pondered my own third act thanks to Millie & Zeek. I overcame my dislike of Dax Shepherd thanks to the character of Crosby.
I felt for Victor and thought about my own adopted girl.
I adored how the show tugged at my heart each viewing, but more than that I loved how every episode I identified with a different character.
One night I’d feel a kinship with Zeek. Another I’d entirely relate to Julia.
Male or female. It didn’t matter.
The show was so well written I discovered pieces of myself–ones I liked and disliked– in each of the Bravermans.
And the show made me think.
I’d marathon-watch *any* time this happened!
And, since there’s nary a soul left in my life or on social media who wants to talk Team Braverman, I’m Braverman-dumping it all here.
Because I can.
I’ve long since finished the series yet there’s an interaction/phrase which has remained in my brain.
It’s a simple one (to explain. if you’ve never even heard of Parenthood) and it’s complicated (in its layered meaning).
It’s an interaction I viewed as positive & sweet, but others shared they saw as negative & condescending.
Max suggests to Hank that Sarah talks too much.
Hank agrees and shares he thinks of her voice as part of the silence.
Her voice is part of the silence.
I loved that line. That line reminded me of my life.
Back in cheerier times, The Husband and I took frequent road trips.
As we’d drive I’d yammer at him about plans and dreams.
I’d monologue at him about lofty ideas and, through process of said blather, I’d solve my ‘problems’ or figure out my ideas.
I’d always have a resolution I was happy with by the time we reached our destination.
I yammer to find resolution.
I recall saying to him frequently:
I just need to talk this though. You can think about something else if you want!
To which he responded:
I like when you talk. It relaxes me.
It relaxes me and her voice is part of the silence are, to my mind, the highest of compliments.
They convey comfort and love in a way which takes years to create.
They indicate one’s voice has evolved to become part of the soothing patter & fabric of the other person’s life.
Part of the almost unnoticed backdrop of the others’ existence.
I see this as a beautiful thing.
I don’t, as friends do, see it as an indication of the other person not listening. Tuning out.
I frequently tell the Child how I could listen to her stories all day.
Her tales, her yammering, her constant chatter is part of my own Mama-silence and I treasure it.
- Do you find beauty in the phrase as I do?
- Or do you find the very notion of “voice as part of the silence” indication the listener has “tuned out?”