And sometimes I think about the Quiet. No more groans or flare-ups, no shrugging of the shoulders or the nearly audible rolling of the eyes. Floors will be cleaner, clothes hung, no more messes made and left. No computers or headphones, tinny guitars and thumping drums through their tiny speakers. No more footsteps late at night or fights over which chair, which computer, which game, or which TV is used by whom.
And far less laughter. No keyboards playing or chasing of the cats, no late night snacks with refrigerators opening. Just two heartbeats, not four. Just two plates set at a small table.
I think about that Quiet and run into the sound of your laughter, your frustrations, your light. My sons, all love and Sound, sweet Sound.