Sometimes it is a note handed to you at the end of session, often an email, a text, a phone call or a look full of emotion from across the room. It has been a week of paying attention and bearing witness as stories unfold. I watch my staff hold it together for the sake of others. My mother's staff holds her anguish and keeps her safe as the sun drops and days get shorter. Sundown.... not an opportunity for sunsets as we assume. For some, a time of fear, confusion...a journey to dark places.
My mother has no words anymore to communicate with. Her look as she held my hand last evening spoke volumes. She had so much to say and I had no where I needed to be. It was our best conversation in many months.
Communication happens in so many ways. We would be foolish to rely on words alone. In the quiet space between one another we hold each other in safety. Finding our voice and giving voice sometimes has nothing to do with speech.