Sometimes silence is important. That was one of the first things I learned from my husband when we met in France over fourteen years ago. He loves silence. In fact, as some people I know can attest, we spent the first week of our acquaintance in almost total silence, staring at each other like those twitterpated creatures in Bambi. We were married two years later, twelve years ago next week.
For eight of those twelve years we have been parents. During those eight years we have been away from our kids, as a couple, for one night. And that one night was the memorable episode when my youngest sister, who had kindly assented to watch our boys, sent a subtle text asking how much bedding the washing machine could hold. Turns out, the boys had eaten a whole jar of strawberry flavored acidophilus tablets. If you don’t know what acidophilus tablets are, let’s just say they promote healthy digestion.
Despite that story, another of my sisters offered to watch the boys this weekend so we could get away for a night. She just sent a picture of my youngest with a big bloody bump on his forehead, subtitled “off to a great start.” God bless my sisters.
We are only twenty minutes from home, staying in a glorified camping spot with a screened in patio, a small trailer, a beautiful river view, and best of all, silence. We have four crazy boys. We live in a tiny house. Sometimes silence is important.
Sometimes it is important to sit and contemplate twelve years of marriage without a grubby little hand pulling on your thumb and telling you to come see where he peed on the floor. Sometimes it is important to cook a fabulous meal without fast-growing boys whining in your ear that if dinner isn’t ready soon, they are going to starve to death right before your eyes.
Sometimes it is important to paddle down a river at sunset without worrying that your accident prone child is going to tumble overboard. And it is sweet to be able to wake up with the sun on the water and thank God for a chance to be still and number your blessings, so you can go back to them with a willing and cheerful heart.