Friday, November 06, 2009

7:40 a.m.

Ah -- the last one calls out, "Good-bye, Mama!" as he swings the front door shut behind him. A house full of noise and bustle just a mere split second ago now resounds with silence.

Mama breathes a deep sigh as the rush of that silence crashes in on her. An awareness of being alone in a home usually filled with human sounds and busyness washes over and another sigh ushers forth. She savors the vacuum momentarily, almost heady with intoxication. What can she do with this emptiness, this freedom? The thoughts tumble forth. She keeps them in check; she's experienced this before and found that a moment of silence can lead to wild imaginings of accomplishment that never quite materialize. Successful harnessing leads to another reflection.

"I'm glad we don't do public school. Who can imagine enduring this every morning?" She smiles openly to no one.

Mama turns, heading back to the kitchen for her reward; coffee has been put off in lieu of preparing lunches for her students.

She stops short, arrested by the sight. Standing in the doorway, she surveys the aftermath of the already exhausting morning. A bowl of tuna sits uncovered on the counter alongside an open jar of peanut butter. Knives are strewn here and there, coffee mugs scattered as well. Packages of vanilla wafers take up temporary residence on the granite topped cupboard next to the bag of pumpkin muffins that moved in last night. A half consumed bowl of Rice Krispies sits on the kitchen table, spoon still in place, box opened standing guard. Can opener, spoons, sugar bowl, bread, jacket, granola and yogurt -- no, wait. The daughter who had that as breakfast sustenance had dutifully returned it to its place.

Dad had announced a bit ago that he wanted to depart 20 minutes earlier than usual. Twenty minutes can make a big difference in an already tight routine. So...

...helter skelter.

Mama pours her coffee, turns her back to it all and walks away. "Later. For now I will sit with my coffee and computer, my Bible and journal. For now I will enjoy the peace and quiet afforded to me this morning."

1 Comments:

Blogger nymrsb said...

I love the "sound" of silence. As you say, such endless possibilities await!

9:40 AM  

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