What I've always secretly hoped for on Mother's Day was not really discussed: quiet. I'm not the only one who's felt that way, but it certainly doesn't seem to be the most visible viewpoint.
It's ironic, then, that the most difficult thing about the separation with my husband has been the prolonged, almost tenable silence. It's like this:
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| You can almost hear the theme from "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" playing mournfully. "Oo-ee-oo-ee-ooooh..." Image credit: Sandman. |
It's so quiet in that picture, you know the slightest bit of wind would roar in your ears. If a tumbleweed blew by, it would loudly scritch-scratch its way across the landscape. There are certainly no ear-drum bursting wails of a disappointed four year-old, or even the barely audible grumblings of a grounded ten year-old.
And that’s my house, three nights a week and one weekend a month: tumbleweeds and abandoned railways and implied ghost towns.
The first thing I did was buy a boombox so I could keep the radio on. (Side note: do you know how hard it is to buy a boombox these days?! And they’re so expensive! Curse you, 80s nostalgia!) The second thing I did is stop ignoring my dog, Baxter:
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| Too cute to be ignored. |
Also, I might have cried a little bit, which certainly helped to increase the noise level in the house.
I look forward to the time when the silence is peaceful and comforting instead of scary and lonely. Until then, I’ll have to suffer through Delilah on the radio every night.
Ahh, yes, Deli-laaaaaaaaaaah....
ReplyDeleteThere was a time -- I dunno, maybe a few months in -- where I sat in my sunny kitchen on a Saturday morning after sleeping in, drinking my coffee and giving thanks for the Indiana Parenting Time Guidelines.
Then there are the middle-of-the-night thunderstorms where I'm paralyzed with anxiety that my son is ten miles away and not under my immediate care.
For me, it's still a blend.
Jen, you're supposed to tell me it gets easier, not that things will always be complex! Let's pretend that life gets simpler, ok? ;)
DeleteIt seems you are still able to keep a good sense of humor despite everything that you talked about. Being able to write about it and have other people relate is probably one of the best things you can do. I won't however, pretend to know how that feels like since I am not a woman nor a mother. Your writing style is intriguing to me despite not having that in common with you. I am sure Baxter appreciates the extra attention you are able to give him!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comment! I'm really thankful for my sense of humor; it's helped me get through a lot. And yeah, Baxter is loving it!
DeleteGood lord I despite Delilah. :::shudder::: She is just too much for me.
ReplyDeleteThe boombox, however, I totally understand. We have one at my house (with a tape deck, CD player AND AM/FM radio) and it is, to put it frankly, a treasure. Silence can too often be deafening, but I think the boombox and the puppy are very healthy ways of increasing the noise around you. I'm sure Baxter LOVES it :)
See, I despise Delilah, too. In college, my friend and I used to listen to her ironically and roll our eyes a lot. The problem is, it's really the only decent music I've found on in the evenings. Everything else is either something too heavy or Catholic talk radio! So, that's why I stomach her sugary-sweetness...for the Phil Collins!
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