I decided to get up when I woke up this morning, instead of rolling over for round two... or three or four as the case, and the night, may be; and so I found myself in the kitchen via the bathroom, at 8:30.
I've had breakfast, enjoyed one cup of coffee so far, and have done some web-surfing and blog reading.
And the house is quiet, but for the humming and buzzing of the fridge and a fan somewhere.
I was wrong. It was only the fridge. It just stopped, and all the noise with it.
Makes me wonder if this is what life is doomed to become: quietness.
In less than six months Micah will be finished school and will be looking to start his life, which probably won't, and probably shouldn't include living with us in The Field.
It's as it should be. I keep telling myself that if we've done the Parenting Thing well, the inevitable conclusion is that we will be alone and childless... which is not a bad thing. It will just be quieter.
It's a good thing that we still like each other. The husband and I.
It's a good thing we don't mind quietness.
It will be interesting to see what life looks like with the volume turned down. Will it be a comfortable quiet or an awkward silence.
Will we become that lovely, old married couple who don't need words to fill the void- who can communicate a thousand words with a single glance; two gray-haired relics reading poetry and mystery novels by the fire while Classic FM or the BBC plays softly in the background and the kettle steams on the back of the stove?
I hope so.
If the odd morning-alone-before-everyone-else-is-up is any indication,
It will be just fine.