The Quiet House

 

 

 

The house is still.  Too much so.

After ten days our family guests left several hours ago and already I miss them.

The two children mostly, ages five and almost two-years old.

 

 

For ten days this house was a storm.  A chaos of activity.

Patter of non-stop little feet.  Shrieks.  Cries.  Laughter.  Crashes.  (And it wasn’t me falling!)

Our home came alive again.  And it was welcome.

 

 

 

Toys were dredged up from the basement that haven’t been played with in years.

Balls were bounced, rolled and kicked.

A wagon got dusted off and ridden in.

 

 

 

Baby toys amused once again.

The See’N Say worked overtime.

Books were opened.  Read and re-read.

Whistles were blown.

Tops spun.

 

 

 

A toy truck was pushed.  It hauled.  It crashed for the first time in twenty years.

 

At first this 55-year old couldn’t handle the confusion.

My MS riddled brain & body rebelled with spasms and tightness.

A couple of sleepless nights ensued.

But after a while all relaxed to eventually come to savor the special moments…

Aw, c’mon Funny Meter, let it go!  I know it’s not funny, but I’m having my own Lifetime movie special here!  Complete with real tears.  Geez, cut me some slack!

Now, where were we?

I suppose my emotions are a mix of present day fun with memories of our own two boys growing up.

My how time passes.

Meanwhile, our visitors are gone.  Toys have been put away.  And the old house is quiet once again.

Man, I hope the next bout of commotion comes soon–it is too darn boring here.