Silence In The Line

One year later. This month, last year, standing in line for several hours to pay tribute to the coffin of Jack Layton. Line winding down from Centre Block on Parliament Hill, all around the East Block.

Quiet voices throughout. Nobody smoking. No idea who was around me, or their particular reasons for being there. There alone, speaking with no one.

Young couple immediately behind me. Overheard enough to know that they worked on Parliament Hill. Holding hands throughout. Few words throughout. For hours. Female friend coming up to the line, on her way to the back, recognizing the woman. Talk is about the latter’s beautiful face and makeup. No introduction of her male companion. Friend leaves, and then back to silence.

Seemed to be such a vacuous relationship. Arrogance on my part. Had vacuous relationships, with much conversation. And much less public connection.

Began to appreciate that, in the silence, they were perfectly in sync. Neither wanting or needing to say anything to the other. Connection still there, and constant.

All this talk about opposites attracting. Maybe so, but the attraction seems more shredded than not. Strongest vision is a common one, and a common one may be silence.

Lessons from Jack.

About brucelarochelle
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