I have that hyper-vigilant ear that mothers sometimes develop, enhanced hearing that insists on picking up every sound within 20 miles and identifying it. The kind of hearing that is easily tormented by a dripping faucet or the sound of running water. No one else can hear a darn thing in this house, my mother being older, my husband having run power tools all is life, the kids having not yet learned how to listen to anything but themselves and their world.
I hear all alone, every faucet left on, every dish broken, every cupboard slammed. It’s a lot of work, that unrecognized emotional work, that invisible labor that many wives and moms often engage in, constantly scanning the environment for threats and potential disasters. Always listening for that baby’s cry or even the sound of a toddler’s silence that often signifies trouble of some sort. Silence can be the most disturbing sound of all.
Pondering footsteps today, the personalities behind them, the way my ears have come to recognize who is who. My youngest daughter used to be the pitter patter of a hurricane, a constant storm brewing and then a crash. Today she is the rapid fire thump-thump of hurricane footsteps, still followed by a crash or several. That child’s brain moves much faster than her feet and I’ve yet to see her enter or leave a room without dropping something or knocking it over. Walls get in her way, doors, tables. She once bragged to some friends about allegedly sneaking in and out of the house and even dad cracked up laughing. A ninja she is not. Her idea of “sneaking in” would involve diving head first through a plate-glass window, with Bach playing as back ground music.
My husband has some lovely footsteps, slow and steady. He’s a big guy but surprisingly light on his feet, so his footsteps are actually soft and deliberate. I’ve never heard him stomp or thump. Yes, even the man’s footsteps make my heart go pitter patter.
Our dog scratches across the hardwood, all those fingernails click-clicking, and although he is old and fat now and moves slowly, he sounds like he is really going somewhere.
My mother actually is a ninja, a dancer for many years really, so she can still move silently, gracefully. I have to sense her footsteps more than I hear them. She can scare people, she’ll sneak up on them, even me after all these years.
My son’s footsteps are familiar, almost spooky because they are my footsteps, our rhythm and cadence being so similar, it is as if I have left my body and walked across the room.
I have a brother-in-law who often comes by to raid the coffee pot. His footsteps are happy, enthusiastic, he hops his way across my deck, a bit shifty really, bouncing from foot to foot, almost like a boxer.
My husband, bless his heart, somehow understood that the kids are now grown, that the need to keep one ear tuned in to a baby’s cry has long past, that my ears need rest, that I need rest from all that noise that sometimes haunts me, and so our bedroom is now a sanctuary, a safe place with the white noise of a fan running, drowning out the world’s chatter.
Hubby can be surprisingly astute sometimes. Such a simple thing, “you need quiet,” but “quiet” something so far away, so long forgotten, I had no idea how important it was.
Julie said:
That was creative and enjoyable. Now I must get the heck in the shower so I’m not late for church.
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insanitybytes22 said:
Thanks for reading! Have a great time at church 🙂
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anitvan said:
You should have seen me last weekend, I attended a kids birthday party to which all of my grandkids were invited. There are 9 of them, all under the age of 6, so you can imagine what it was like for me! Their parents were all there watching them, and yet I spent the afternoon scanning around, counting kids and making sure nobody was getting into trouble. I can’t help myself – it’s not that I don’t trust my kids to watch their own offspring – it’s simply ingrained in me now to be on high alert whenever there are kiddos around. Do you think it’s possible to grow out of this phase, lol? Probably not, because after grandkids comes greatgrandkids…
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insanitybytes22 said:
LOL! I hear you.
I still hear some kid yelling “mom” in the store and I have to stop myself from answering. I suppose that never really goes away entirely.
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"A" dad said:
Psalm 23
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside
quiet waters,
3 he refreshes my soul.
You know Memi, I would not be surprized at all to find that Mr. Memi consults the manual frequently!
Even if it is written on his heart.
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insanitybytes22 said:
Yep, the manual is definitely written on his heart. 🙂
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SLIMJIM said:
Man this makes me cherish the footsteps of my little ones (all under 5).
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insanitybytes22 said:
Oh yes! Cherish those little footsteps. There’s just something special about that pitter patter.
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