When an end occurs,
a deafening silence usually follows.
The pleasant sounds which filled each day
Disappear abruptly.
Silence.
The silence is an assault to ears accustomed
to hearing the sounds of joy;
soft voices,
gentle breathing from the other side of the bed,
the sound of water lapping the shore,
the din of children,
the frequent I love yous.
Stillness.
One would think stillness in the wake of such
chaos
would be a relief and yet it is
not.
Instead, the quiet scrapes my skin raw
and, because I can hardly breathe,
relaxation is unattainable.
Pleasant sounds will return in time,
but they will be mine instead.
It will be my own soft voice I hear.
I will move to the center and fill my own bed.
I will seek water and listen as it washes ashore.
I will welcome the clamor of children into my home,
mine and many from other mothers.
In time, I will tell myself I love you.
Often.
Because with or without you, I still need to hear those words.
Relephant:
How Horses and Meditation Saved my Life.
~
Author: Mk Michaels
Editor: Travis May
Photo: Pixabay
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