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