Not even a telephone call has shattered the stillness and calm. One child is in the goal in Canada in a professional soccer game, another is cleaning an apartment on this last day of rent for the school year. Yet another is busy settling into a newly rented house with a yard and place for a garden.
George and I are here at home, doing little chores and recuperating after a long six hours of moving furniture and boxes for the apartment cleaning child. We find ourselves just sitting down sometimes to catch up some energy from yesterday, and enjoy the sun.
I wrote a donation check to one son's alma mater, for a less fortunate student athlete. In the drawer where I filed the receipt, I found an old calendar from one of the kids' grade school and elementary years. The listed activities were a shock to the system.
My God, we were on the move every day, mornings, afternoons, evenings, weekends. Entries for 'soccer practice/E, soccer practice/G, orthodontia/M, school jog-a-thon volunteer/me, dogs/shots' appeared all on one day square. That would be a busy week for me now. But, George and I did it. Over and over and over for over twenty years. We also had birthdays, Christmases, volunteered for the local Search and Rescue program, took care of his aging father who suffered with Alzheimer's, taught kids to dive and drive and hunt and camp. We also gave them food and love and approval and life skills. Every day, every week, every month, for more than two decades.
It is no wonder the quiet sounds so good, the pauses feel so good, the silent phone is such a secret conspirator in our calm. Time out for good behavior.
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