While scrolling through Facebook, I came across a
recording of “Silence Is Golden,” a 1967 song by The Tremeloes. The song’s lyrics
are about a man who struggles with the possibility of telling a woman he loves
that her man is feeding her lies. He finally decides to mind his own business because
telling her would only hurt her, and she might not believe him anyway.
Throughout life, we sometimes learn a secret that
affects a person we love and can’t decide if we should tell them the truth.
Silence is golden when we choose not to hurt someone unnecessarily, especially,
if we are trying to clear our own conscience at their expense.
Silence is
not golden when someone is in danger. Some people put on a false front and may
only show their true nature over time. I’ve seen this happen in more than one
case. One woman heeded the advice of her friend and left a dangerous situation.
Another one refused to believe credible evidence and never left until he was
incarcerated.
Most of the day, silence is golden to me. I’ve
never been a person to turn on a TV or radio to interrupt my silent
contemplation. I’ve always worked best without distractions. I enjoy my first
cup of coffee in solitude and relax better without unnecessary noise. I can
handle soft music in the background, or listen to music when I drive or complete
physical tasks. Often when I cook or wash dishes, I’ll listen to a library book
on my Kindle.
I’m happiest in small groups or one-on-one with a
friend. Too much chaos or noise gives me a headache and disturbs my peace.
I enjoyed thoughtful conversations with Jim, but
when Jim developed dementia, I noticed a big difference in his communication
skills. Over time, he spoke less often and couldn’t find the correct words to
express himself. Eventually, aphasia brought about almost complete silence. The
last several years of his life, he could go days without uttering a word.
Excerpt from Indelible (unpublished memoir
about Jim):
Jim
had an appointment with the doctor to have his ears checked. He had been
falling a lot and the nurses thought he might have an ear infection. The staff
had been using eardrops, but decided he needed to see the doctor.
It
was time to take him to the doctor’s office, out the door and across the
parking lot. Virginia decided to be there to help the nursing home staff member
assigned to take him.
They
took him into the examining room, and the doctor asked, “Does he talk?”
“Not
much,” the nurse replied. “He is pretty much silent.”
The
doctor started examining Jim’s ear and pushed a little bit too hard. Jim jumped
up from the examining table, gave him a murderous look, and yelled, “Jesus
Christ!”
The
doctor was totally taken aback. “I thought you said he didn’t talk!”
“I
said he didn’t talk much,” the nurse replied, “but he remembers how to cuss.”
I
was often annoyed at how many videos Jim made of vacations, family gatherings,
or jam sessions, but they are treasures now. On some tapes, everyone is talking
at one time, and I can pick out the voices of family and friends that I will
never hear again. I love to hear Jim’s voice on the old videotapes and still
laugh at his corny jokes.
Whether
silence is golden, or not, depends on the circumstances.
Copyright © March 2026 by L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
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