Self Entertainment

I might have mentioned that Terry once lived in one of his Grandma’s rental units. A few of his friends did too, passing through like seasonal birds. One of them told me something that made me laugh.

They would walk past Terry’s place early in the morning or late at night, when the world was quiet and nobody was supposed to be talking to anyone. From inside, they would hear Terry carrying on a full conversation. Punchlines included. Laughter included. No second voice required. Terry, as it turned out, never needed an audience. He was perfectly capable of being the comedian and the crowd.

I learned this firsthand. I would be in the office working, or in the kitchen pretending I was not working, and I would hear him talking and laughing. At first, I assumed he was talking to me. Naturally, I answered. Sometimes this went on for a while, a respectable back and forth, before a small ripple of confusion set in. Something felt off. I would walk toward the sound, stop at the threshold, and there he was. Terry, fully engaged. Entertainer and audience, both satisfied.

It was impressive, really. Comical. Intriguing.

I think Jolie learned this skill from Terry. She would pick up a ball or a broken flower pot and entertain herself for long stretches of time.

Sometimes Jolie and Terry would play together, but there was no urgency about it. They seemed comfortable in their own company, like two people who had already figured something important out.

I felt a little bad about not spending more time with them during the day. Work has a way of expanding. Terry never made me feel bad about it. He had his routines, his jokes, his conversations. Jolie had her "projects".

At the end of the day, everything came back together naturally. Terry and I would play Jeopardy!, arguing gently over answers we were both certain about. Jolie would rest her chin on my lap and snore way, completely confident that nothing important was being missed.

It was simple. It was kind.

Some households are loud because people are talking to each other. Ours was loud because someone was perfectly happy talking to himself, and somehow that made room for all of us.