"Silence is golden, golden."
I grew up hearing this song when my mother was chasing away the chaotic atmosphere and again when in that rare occasion-she experienced actual silence.
She sung it sarcastically when she couldn't fix the crazy times of life. She sung it sincerely with a hint of humor when the house was actually quiet.
Now, I am finding I do the same thing. I have sung the same words to my husband as our two sons are playing louder than a room full of cawing crows. It is hard to converse when they are so noisy. Harder to concentrate. I often long for a moment to speak without interruption or an opportunity to be alone with my thoughts...drift in dream land.
Yet-sometimes the silence scares me.
A part of me knows that there will be more silence then I care for when the boys are grown up and leave our home. And I loathed the times when I was by myself with my grieving heart after my mom died 8 years ago.
Perhaps, silence is not always golden.
My kids were gone for a weekend and I thought I was going to love the quiet. It was deafening. Once I got my house cleaned up and sat down it was like...okay what now? What good is a clean house without my kids to mess it up?
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