At Least We Didn’t Talk About Taxes
How to have a post covid conversation face to face
I received an invitation to dinner post covid isolation lock-down.
Being fully vaccinated and feeling brave, I accepted with delight. I was so excited to be with people, yet also nervous. The TV and the dog have been my primary conversational partners, and frankly, it’s a bit one-sided!
Tips for having a good conversation
I actually googled how to have a good conversation. The tips are common sense;
- Listen, at least act like you are listening.
- Lean into the conversation, and look like you care about what the person is saying.
- The one tip that stuck out was to look closely at what they are wearing and develop conversation topics from that.
- The tip writers should add; look at their social media, stalk their posts to find tidbits to talk about.
Mr. and Mrs. Host were in generic clothing — no labels, no way to label chat!
Luckily, I had Facebook stalked their respective pages to try and find conversation starters. I saw that Mr. Host’s son had run a particularly challenging course, so I asked why it was named what it was.
His reply, “I don’t know.”
Okay, that conversation starter failed.
Since their clothes gave me no clues, I looked around the new camper for something to talk about. Everything was summerhouse beige and gray. Yes, summerhouse beige is a real color! No room for art on the walls or nicknacks. No artifacts of a life hanging about.
I like this clean, spartan sort of life. Note to self, up the toss two things a day rule to three. Clean out the crap quicker. I somehow became the family museum, and I live surrounded by too much stuff.
A topic to avoid: Death
A particularly odd thought crossed my mind as I scoured the scene for conversation starters; if I die, I don’t want to be found in the hell hole I am currently living in — I have to require more of myself and clean up and clean out my house. Well, that’s not a good topic for conversation!
Mr. Host, seeking an out, harnessed up the dogs for a walk in the rain. I inquire about the super-duper intense harnesses that looked like a flak jacket. “Where did you get those? They are so cool. No getting out and escaping from me.” I cheerfully say. “I don’t know,” Mr. Host replies and lead the dogs out into the rain.
Oh man, strike two.
Mrs. Host was far easier to get rolling in conversation. We chat about politics, committee duties, poverty rates in special needs children, how rural and urban needs for specialized care are the same, college curriculums, and what needs to change post covid — and it wasn’t just the bourbon talking.
Getting them to tell a story, and they wouldn’t stop talking!
After dinner, Mr. Host finally embarks on an animated story that activates my deepest fear; his never married, childless Aunt died in her house, and no one knew for a week. No one from work called to find out why she was missing. No one was alerted, having not heard from her. She died alone on the kitchen floor. Mr. Host’s phone number was the only one the state troopers found, so they called him.
As Mr. and Mrs. Host gave blow-by-blow details of this trauma, I was reeling inside.
That will be me. I’ll be dead for weeks, years maybe.
My neighbor’s pride themselves on their lack of nosiness. So I won’t even get the wellness check from the state trooper that Mr. Host’s Aunt received.
I must have appeared to be really leaning into the conversation and listening intently as they went deeper and further into the story. I became even more panicked. I’ve had ample evidence over the last 1.5 years that should I stay on this farm, I’m choosing to die alone. This society isn’t set up to include women living on their own.
As I was getting ready to leave, I said to them, “In case anyone wants to know, I’m to be buried in Area 51.” They laughed. “No, I’m serious. Dresden, Missouri, we have family plots in Area 51. Cremation is the way to go. Just so that someone knows!”
Then it occurred to me why I received a somewhat out-of-the-blue dinner invitation. Mr. and Mrs. Host realized I am in the same situation as their Aunt. They had silently vowed to check in and be more present in my life with this wonderful evening of laughter and real conversation.
Thanks for stepping up and checking in, Mr. and Mrs. Host! I am forever grateful.
Death as a conversation topic
Well that wasn’t on anyone’s list! Ben Franklin famously said “ Nothing in this world can be certain except death and taxes” at least we didn’t talk about taxes. Next time!