Listeners

When my mom died, among the list of losses, this question clanged around in the hollow pit of my stomach: who will listen to me narrate my life? My husband isn't fascinated by the intricacies of my brain (imagine!) and drifts off if I take too long to get to the point. And my children already collect evidence that I'm losing my mind so there's no need to provide more fodder. My dachshund worships me but her statuesque stare seems judgmental somehow.

Those of us who process externally can't resist a good listener. We don't know what we think until we "talk it out". I admire those who don't speak until they have had time to process their thoughts inside their head. I tried being an introvert once- for a day. If you know me, that's good for a chuckle.

A good listener is indispensable.

A listener with leisure time is a special find. A bonus if the listener loves you. And, if she needs stories to pass the time, there's no guilt for blabbing on and on. 

A friend recently suggested that I start a blog- unrelated I think. So the other day, to pass the long hours in the combine cab, harvesting soybeans, I started to imagine what I might write about. It's presumptuous to think anyone in cyberspace is "listening", but perhaps it's a new way to narrate my life. If you've stumbled upon this narration, I'd love to hear about the listeners in your life, or if you need them.