Its quiet. Strange quiet. I don't mean that there is silence. I am not referring to sounds of silence, hello darkness my old friend ... silence. Its just quiet.
There is the sound of the dog slubbering. There is sound of the dishwasher churning cleaning the weekend dishes. The washing machine is cleansing the mountain of towels used these last four days. The TV is going and yet there is quiet.
How can that be?
There is no one home except of course the person being me writing these words.
So, how can it be ... that the quiet is strange.
It should be quiet. I have been home alone before and it was not strange.
Why this time?
One wife, four sons, one daughter-in-law ... and one grandson. They were here and now there gone. Not gone like no longer no this planet. They are still of this plane of existence, just not physically here.
There was a time, when the rumor was that I cherished these moments. A certain individual used to comment that I was happiest at these moments. It might have seemed like that to an outsider, to someone that was projecting what it might have appeared from a different angle. It was not true.
But this time, it is clear ... the silence is different this time.
From Wednesday night to Sunday morning there were sounds ... voices, discussion, arguing, baby crying, baby laughing, camera flashing ... refigerator door opening, closing, opening, chewing and more chewing ... lots of food being take from packages to plates to mouth. And now, now of that ... quiet.
They are gone and it is quiet and I do not like it.
It should be loud and clear ... I want them here and I want them back. I do not like or want the quiet.
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