There is a reason – apart from expanding my knowledge base, or being amused, or being angered – that I listen to Radio 4 as much as I do. Wake up, radio on. Radio in every room. Sometimes more than one on at a time.
The reason is that the quiet is full of silent noise, very loud silent noise. And has been for years. This is also the reason that I have been discovered talking to myself – no radio in the woods.
However, there have been some non-radio moments lately when some clarity, self-awareness, even understanding, has emerged from the silent racket behind my eyes.
And I have started to understand why I, and others, do or have done what we do, or did. And all of my English teachers will hate me for that last sentence.
This ‘holiday period’, for the first time in a very long time, lit the Hanukkah candles. Not once, but every night – well almost. Christmas got in the way for a couple of days,but I caught up.
The Hanukkah cards I sent, especially to the Town Councillors, were intended to make a point – to some at least. Some of those sent to others also.
But the candles, that was for me. And also, because I am now in my home, my real home, for the first time in many years, it was also to welcome my mother in.
I remember standing in the shadow outside an open doorway, and watching my mother light candles on a Friday night. This was her own particular moment, her religion, her place in the world. I know I felt like I was intruding, and I hope she didn’t know that I was there, but it was also the most perfect, beautiful and peaceful moment I remember from my childhood.
And so the candles are an invitation, along with the Mezuzah by my front door, for her to join me in my home, and be at peace with me.
I have also realised something about my father. For much of my childhood, youth, actually till my thirties really, I didn’t know him. He was there in the background as I grew up, but never really had any impact or input.
When he and my mother separated, and divorced, even less so. It took the persuasion of my first wife to get me talking again, and then a gradual understanding and appreciation of who he was.
This was not always easy, as he was an intensely private person about personal things. But I do recall that he could be extremely sociable, and generous. And he always seemed to particularly enjoy the company of women. Never in a salacious way, but very definite.
Now i will never know for sure, because he is no longer here to ask, and he might not say even if he was, but I wonder if he feels the same as me.
i have always found the company of women to be more fulfilling, rewarding and enjoyable on so many levels. Partly I think because I never got a grip on the male interaction requirement to compete and boast.
But mainly because women are more interesting, and more honest about what matters. And they care about so much that isn’t themselves.
That may well be true of many men as well, but if it is, they definitely need to discover how to show it. Bravado is a pointless exercise, compassion is not.
So, I have decided that my father preferred the company of women because he enjoyed the company without the competition, and that helps make me missing him easier. And the Mezuzah by the door helps, because my mother is safe with me too.
That feels like a good start to a year.
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