For years, when asked what they'd like most for a gift, my mom and dad would answer, "peace and quiet." When your house is full of girls of all ages and emotions, it is easy to understand why this particular gift would be a blessing.
I don't quite get why Dad still answers the "what do you want for ...." question with "peace and quiet." Seems like that is pretty much every day. Maybe not always peaceful as in serene, but at least his days are no longer ruled by the phases of the moon. And quiet is a relative thing!
I couldn't help but notice just how quiet the house felt today with everyone gone. Lonely quiet. Perhaps it was the kind of quiet my dad enjoys. But for me it was the kind of quiet that makes me cry. The kind of quiet that is full of memories rather than female activity. The kinf of quiet I always want to sleep through.
But life goes on. And like everything else, there is a time for noise and a time for quiet. In order to appreciate one, you have to endure the other. I'm torn between going to bed and snuggling under a couple of quilts and turning up the volume on the stereo for a rousing chorus of "wide Montana skies."
Peace and quiet - sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.