Story
Your Voice Previous Story
We listen for much more than words.
I’m deep in thought when the phone rings. I reach to answer without looking away from my writing and mumble a distracted “Hello.” When I hear my mother’s cheerful greeting my focus shifts. “Oh hi, Mom, what’s going on?” Next comes her usual reply: “I don’t really know anything new, I just wanted to hear your voice.” I wince and sit up straight with my habitual, “Mmm.”
Why does she want to hear my voice? What is it in my voice that conveys information? Does she pick up the least inflection, the choice of words, the energy behind my responses, or perhaps more important, what isn’t said—what I’m holding back?
There’s no hiding from a loved one. We may think we can cover up the pesky mood that clouds our day, or manage our voice, sound normal, mask the nasal hint of a winter cold. But the messages sneak through our cover. Those who love us pick up the subtle changes. Our voice is as true to us as a fingerprint or signature. There’s no mistake.
That evening we call our daughter, just to check in, since we haven’t talked in several days. While I wait for her to pick up, I reflect on my Mom’s call in the morning. And I realize we’re calling our daughter on a whim. We don’t have anything special to talk about—we really just want to hear her voice.
You may want to visit our other websites:
The Journey - The Ride of a Lifetime
Uncommon Promise Video Channel
Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog
The UP Side Lowdown Blog by Cheryl
New Music - Virtual CD
In Touch In Tuscany
Why she calls
Why does she want to hear my voice? What is it in my voice that conveys information? Does she pick up the least inflection, the choice of words, the energy behind my responses, or perhaps more important, what isn’t said—what I’m holding back?
There’s no hiding from a loved one. We may think we can cover up the pesky mood that clouds our day, or manage our voice, sound normal, mask the nasal hint of a winter cold. But the messages sneak through our cover. Those who love us pick up the subtle changes. Our voice is as true to us as a fingerprint or signature. There’s no mistake.
That evening we call our daughter, just to check in, since we haven’t talked in several days. While I wait for her to pick up, I reflect on my Mom’s call in the morning. And I realize we’re calling our daughter on a whim. We don’t have anything special to talk about—we really just want to hear her voice.
You may want to visit our other websites:
The Journey - The Ride of a Lifetime
Uncommon Promise Video Channel
Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog
The UP Side Lowdown Blog by Cheryl
New Music - Virtual CD
In Touch In Tuscany
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