Wind and State of Health

Many hours in my days are filled with relative silence.  Sure there may be a TV on for noise or watching. But a real, live human voice is not heard by these ears very often.  Gene's family are not talkers.  People that talked much around them were considered to be "windy".  Not the most thought of use for the word windy.  It was not a compliment to be called "windy" by an Adcock.

A few days ago I thought I was signed into my email on our Kindle.  Noticing a known name, I began reading a response from our son.  Oops.  That was not an email meant for my eyes.  Gene was complaining about how much I interrupt his concentration by asking questions or just talking.  Well, I was somewhere between offended by the comment and embarrassed that I had seen the email.

I come by this penchant for talking naturally.  My mother is a talker.  The only time she does not talk is when she sleeps.  At 93 she takes frequent naps.  A couple of years ago she spent a month with us.  We knew she was asleep when it became quite.  In the car on the trip home she read road signs, store signs and wondered aloud who might live in such a house.  Or would point out certain land features.  Always talking and sharing whatever popped in her mind.

Sometimes she will fall into a story we have never heard before.  Mostly though it is a mantra of the same, familiar stories.  I just noticed that familiar is very close to family.  Maybe that is what family is, the familiar, the known stories of our lives.  Stories retold in familiar cadence, tones with the familiar punch lines.  All that wind!

There is a Bette Midler song, You are My Hero that covers how I feel about my Rogers, Chandler and Adcock families.  The last stanza goes this way:

Fly, fly, fly high against the sky,

so high I almost touch the sky.

Thank you, thank you,

thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings. 

So what does all this have to do with the State of Health.  Last week after stumbling onto the afore mentioned email, I was working really hard to not be "windy" and just blurt out what ever was on my mind.  As we have neither satellite, cable nor U verse connection, there was no television filling the air with sound.  Gene in his recliner and I in my recliner.  Staring at computer screens in silence.

Then there was a sharp intake of air from Gene.  I jumped and ask if he was okay.  "Fine" was the one word response from the non windy Adcock.  A little later I moved "the knee" wrong and groaned.  That resulted in an inquiry from Gene if I was okay.  I gave more information than was necessary but covered the subject sufficiently.  A short time later I heard a sound and turned to see Gene rubbing his head.

Wanting badly to inquire to make sure he was okay I was hindered by my own gales of laughter.  My giggle box was hopelessly turned over by the one striking fact.  The only talk that had transpired in the last several hours were inquires about each other's State of Health.  There must be a happy medium!