The Quiet Calls My Name

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I can hear the Quiet this morning. A repetitive bird chirps in the back yard. Rhythmic drips from the kitchen faucet. An occasional car noise. Mac the Labradoodle sighs.

This is a most unusual morning because I am practically alone. Clayton’s birth was twenty years ago; I have not been alone since. On the day when the last boy entered kindergarten, my husband moved his office home. Here and there I will have “alone mornings,” but they are rare. Rare … that’s what makes them special. I don’t want to wish away my family! I’m just hearing the Quiet.

My youngest resident teenager is asleep upstairs. My oldest is hundreds of miles away dead-dog tired from cleaning every particle in his barracks room for the infamous SAMI (Saturday A.M. Inspection). Husband and middle son are flying home from Las Vegas after experiencing Stuart’s awesome eighteenth birthday/graduation gift of seeing the Cirque Du Soleil Beatles show.

Last February, after having had the flu, I said to Jeff, “Did you know that we don’t have one comfortable chair in this entire house?” (A mom can’t have the flu in an isolated bedroom, I still had to be out where I could see and command the troops.) So, during my illness, I had been longing for a spot to rest my flu-infested muscles and found none.
“I’ve been telling you that for years,” was his simple reply.

Seriously, I had never noticed that our family was plagued by UCS (Uncomfortable-Chair Syndrome) because, quite frankly, I am always moving and never sit down. This was my eye-opening epiphany regarding our UCS and, upon my recovery, I re-arranged some furniture and created the Kinleystead’s favorite sitting spot enjoyed by family and visitors alike. This place which has also received the Mac the Labradoodle Seal of Approval is my wonderful daybed window seat.

What do “quiet” and “UCS” have in common? The simple answer is: The Kinleystead is rarely quiet and I am rarely still, so, I find myself being “lost” in these moments. It’s like when I try shopping in a department store; I look at everything and buy nothing. Too many choices paralyze me! I say to myself, “What shall you do with this quiet or with this “free” time?” I find myself frozen in the answer. Not frozen because I am boring or have no interests…frozen because I have too many choices!

This morning the Quiet is calling my name. I hear it, and my response is to do something just for me.

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