One’s house becomes very quiet as one grows old…….
Of course, the empty nest is quiet…….but other quiets enter. The quiets of less barks as old dogs leave for grassy fields of paradise. The quiet of less phone chats with elderly aunts. The quiets of no phone messages from a dad who hated to even say hello to a machine.
My house has become a lot quieter in the past few months……..Two dogs have died. A third is very ill, barking brings on fits of coughing from an aging heart. Soon, that barking will end. My little parrot died yesterday….her mate of almost 20 years not chirping anymore this morning, in a quiet, lonely cage.
The quietness brings different noise to the mind…….I remember my dad sitting in a corner of a quiet house…..his memory laden mind filled with wistful noise of wife, work, and youth. This week he would have turned 94 years old; perhaps that would have been too long a time to exist in that quiet corner, anyway.
His daughter hears the noise of tiny furry feet, once racing to the kitchen for treats.
His daughter hears the noise of laughter from conversations with missing friends…….
Yes, the aging years bring quiet and noise of another, wistful kind.
And the older I become……..the louder that noise becomes as well……….