Know When to Shut the Hell Up

I received an email yesterday afternoon that a dear neighbor friend of mine had been in a horrific accident (one of those stuck accelerator stories that scare the shit out of you when you dwell on it) this past Saturday and had miraculously lived to tell about it, and had just gotten home from the hospital.  I panicked.  She lives a few blocks away and I only see her now and then while she's walking her dogs. We used to play Bunco together, which is when I got to know her well, falling in love with her joie de vivre and adorable, contagious sense of humor.  Though in her late 70's, one would never guess it.  She's constantly on the go and in the know.

I texted her son before I stopped by to make sure she was up for company, and he later texted back to tell me she would love for me to stop over.  He and his brother live in Cleveland and Columbus and had dropped everything to come to her aid the minute they heard the news.  After picking up a maple & cinnamon bagel and a caramel chocolate muffin from the bakery, I stopped by our house, unloaded my briefcase, let Chessie out, then headed down the street toward her house.   Rounding the corner, I saw two women carrying dishes of food, and by the time I got to her driveway, they were getting back in their car and pulling away.  Fearful of what to expect, I was certain that I didn't want to stay long.  She needed her rest, and too much company would only wear her out.

When I arrived, her sons (both in their 40's or so) welcomed me and filled me in on her condition, the wreck, etc.  They thanked me for coming.  When I saw her standing in the kitchen doorway having a conversation with one of our neighbors, I was astonished at the degree of bruising and swelling over her face, chest, arms. She waved and smiled at me, "Hi, Twyla, I can't see you very well but I hear your voice and I know it's you.  Wish I could see better," that adorable, infectious giggle laced with understandable nervousness.  I tenderly reached for her hand and gave her a light hug.  I wanted to cry.

After being shown photos of the car and seeing her injuries, I was so thankful that she had survived this awful accident with not even one broken bone!   They had to extricate her and airlift her to the hospital.  Everyone who witnessed the scene agreed that she was a walking miracle.  Tender Mercies from Above.  My heart was breaking for her.

As she began to tell me about her broken glasses, the eye doctor's report, grateful that she had not lost her eyesight, this other neighbor, a notorious flap jaw, began finishing each of her sentences, interrupting to tell about an experience she had gone through years ago, how scared she was, and what she remembers and doesn't remember, and oh how glad she was that .... blah-BLAH, blah-BLAH, blah-BLAH.  On and on and on and --- And with fire in my eyes, surely burning holes in her curly, goofy head, I'm thinking ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS, BITCH? SHUT THE HELL UP!

How inconsiderate! Here I am trying to get just a minute or two with her, reach out, offer comfort, LISTEN to her, wanting her to know I'm willing to prepare meals, shop, do whatever she needs me to do, and here's this annoying, screechy-voice windbag who just won't stop.  I finally interrupted her mid sentence, insisting that my friend come and sit down in the living room, get off her feet.  I emphasized that WE SHOULD BE LEAVING because she needed some peace and quiet, needed her rest.  She seemed grateful for that initiative.

Turning to make my way to the kitchen with her bagels and muffins, her son began sharing with me a few brief details and expressions of gratitude.  And there she goes again, that VOICE!  That hyena laugh.  Chatty Cathy was at it again, towering over her in her recliner, going on and on and on about absolutely nothing.

What is it about people 

who don't know when to shut up?  

You know, I try to be conscious of this, on guard most of the time trying not to monopolize conversations in a social setting.  I strive to be a good listener, attentive, intuitive, in touch.  A fluid exchange.  Quid pro quo.  Good conversation skills are SO underrated.

Well, it dawned on me that I needed to rescue my friend from this self-centered prattle monkey.  So butting in again -- and most certainly for the last time -- I said very emphatically, "Well, it's time for us to leave (more preferably stated "get the hell out of here") and let you get some rest. You've been through enough and you need some peace and quiet," coming very close to placing my hands on this clueless woman's shoulders, perfecting her about-face, and kicking her ass out the door.

Why are people so oblivious?  Why???