Speechless

I had a terribly long and painful meeting with a grandparent today. This woman is the epitome of maarte. Everything she says must be twisted in every which direction before arriving at the intended (or perhaps unintended) point, and once all engaged parties arrive at said point, they are overwhelmed with a very tired, confused, and disoriented feeling, as if one has travelled four days just to get across the street. All of the topics that she covers in a conversation seem to flow together seamlessly if you choose not to focus on the words, which I so often did today. One minute she is discussing the occult, and the terrible hold it is threatening to have on her son, the next minute she is discussing fashion, and her opinions on what is truly in, or out, of style. Although most of what she said during the two hours we spent together was pure drivel, there was one thing that stuck out in my head and proved somewhat useful to me. She was going on and on about how perceptive she is and how she wishes her grandson could be half as perceptive as she. "That's why we have two eyes, two ears, and only one mouth, see? We need to observe and listen, before we can even TRY to speak." Lord knows how a woman like this, who seems to dare every person she's in a "conversation" with to get a word in or two, could go around citing that as her motto. But whatever, I like it. It gives me an excuse for my diffidence: careful observation and listening.