Getting to Know You

Val Britton, Ways to navigate through what we've built and what we've destroyed

How do you put together all those disparate pieces to make a whole? We talk on the phone and I try to imagine what he looks like listening to me: is he sitting down at the kitchen table or lying down on the couch? Does he doodle abesentmindedly? Do his fingers drum in front of him? From what he shares, I try to make sense of it all: a father who has died, a brother who is six years older, college in Boston, time spent in Santa Cruz. I fit together a timeline in my head and then realize it's all wrong: it was two years ago he left Boston, the pet dog is actually a labroador. I wonder if he does the same. I picture a man explaining himself over the phone, over the miles of distance between us and the image I have is soft, shifting and elusive.

A woman once wrote that there is a difference between being honest and telling. Where honesty is pure, telling expects results. It's true. There is an agreement between the teller and the tellee. There is a bond. Listen to me and your rewards will be bountiful! The gift of friendship, the promise of concern, the hope of caring. They are, at worst, Hallmark sentiments. But at best, they are all we really need.