I believe that some of the most beautiful and moving pieces of music come during the spaces between the notes. A pause or rest allows us to be open to hearing what is not played, or hearing it again in our minds. The music may reverberate within, allowing a new sound to be heard.

I am learning the same lesson applies when visiting residents, although it is not about music. It is about language. There are times when I am sitting with a resident when he or she becomes very quiet. Maybe we have already talked at length and the visit seems to be coming to a close or the individual is quiet by nature. Sensing it is time to leave, I make an overture to say good-bye. Often the resident tells me I do not need to leave and I should stay. So we continue to sit – quietly.

There was a time when I was uncomfortable in this setting. Shouldn’t we be talking? I should be reading them the Jewish Light, correct? No. There are times a person just wants the company of a caring being to know that he or she is not alone. I find that too many residents are by themselves for too much of the day. I have come to appreciate the importance of the silence in our visits.

There are times when a resident will start to fall asleep then wake up and look at me slightly embarrassed. I always make sure I am looking at him or her and give a big grin and reassure them that I am happy to be here. The silence speaks volumes.