Over the last three weeks, I have helped deliver three children to various college campuses. Our elder daughter is a campus ministry intern, our younger daughter, a junior, and our youngest son, a freshman. Our eldest son graduated from college last year and has long ago left the nest.
On the first quiet day home, I decided to do some processing. Opening a creative writing book, I chose what to me is a challenging exercise: describe the “sound” of something. I hope my piece might help you process some of your feelings about a major change in your life. I also hope my rough efforts might inspire you to try your own. (And if you do so, I hope you’ll share them with us in the comments section!).
“The sound of…moving children to college”
Bed and chest rattle and shake over every bump we hit in the 250-mile drive to my daughter’s new home. The rattling is quiet compared to my noisy emotions – hope, fear, uncertainty zinging around inside. Happy squeals reach us across the parking lot as roommates reunite after the long summer apart. The helpers pleasantly greet us and politely ask where to start. The trailer door clangs as they open it, and a whoosh of hot air rushes toward us. They lift heavy boxes with barely a whimper; I pull small ones out of the car with dramatic groans. My daughter calls out from her room, “Mom, where should we put the table?” I go inside, where we chat casually about furniture placement.
Silence echoes through the large empty house. Stillness calls to stillness. I wander by the darkened piano, its mouth shut up, waiting stoically for release. Our empty nest teddy bear dog sighs heavily in the hallway. My phone tweets from my pocket: “31DayFacelift is now following you.” “Really?!” I mock the message, staring at the non-person that delivered it. Drawn by the silent piano, I sit softly on the bench, tentatively striking notes unknown. A not-unpleasant noise sings forth, signaling the distant possibility of a graceful melody arising.
