The power of words

“Do you really hate everything about this place?” Miss Cathy asked me the other morning. I was making my first cup of coffee and she was sitting very quietly in the kitchen (which we all know is very unusual for her given that morning is one of favorite times of day to talk, as are …noon and night, baa-dum-dum).

Anyway, I was wrapped up in my own thoughts so I wasn’t focused on her but something made me stop to take a good look, maybe it was the silence, I don’t know. I could see that her body language was off; she was drawn in on herself, her eyes downcast as she sat there with a curious expression on her face. I asked if she’d slept “alright” to which she replied “yes” and when I probed further and asked if something was wrong she made that statement.

I had no idea why she would say that until she explained that it’s what I’d said last week when I was washing her hair in the kitchen sink. She said that it had bothered her ever since I first said it and she wanted to know if that was how I really felt. She went on to say that there was nothing more she could do about the apartment, that she did the best she could with what she had and that she was sorry to take me away from my life.

“Wow!” I thought to myself looking at her. She’d been carrying those thoughts around waiting for the right time to bring it up to me. From the look on her face she was very upset so I knew the first thing I had to do was to reassure her that I was “just talking”, that I was “just blowing off steam” and bitching about the poorly designed faucet fixtures and NOT my decision to be here with her.

I told her that I was sorry if I caused her to think that I was unhappy, that in fact I was starting to feel more at home, grateful for our routines and happy that she was doing so well. I went on to explain that sure, I did hate the design and poor quality of some of the things in the apartment but wasn’t her fault. And if I bitched or complained it was just out of frustration or something said in the heat of the moment. She seemed to accept that explanation and visibly relaxed before my eyes.

We talked a little more about the difference between blowing off steam and revealing our true feelings, and I promised that I would be clearer in the future about which I was doing.

What I realized is that I need to be much more careful about what I say and when I say it. I’m never sure what she’ll take to heart and what she’ll dismiss. In the past (which was not too terribly long ago) we’d just say things to each other; mother to son, friend to friend, one opinionated adult to the other, words thrown about with abandon, little thought to their impact or long lasting implications. If there was a misunderstanding it would be cleared up in time but both of us seemed to be more interested in being heard than the other’s feelings. While she’s still verrrrry opinionated, she’s more sensitive than before and more often than not her defenses are down. I am continually surprised by how quickly things have changed and I have to be mindful of the power of words to hurt and heal.