Signals

A line of light from the kitchen streams beneath our bedroom door: someone is up early.

The pantry door squeaks: the boys are hungry.

No sounds from the basement bedroom: someone has slept in.

The rumble of the garage door: someone is returning or leaving.

The squeal of pipes through the wall: someone is in the shower.

The floor shakes with muted explosive sounds: someone is watching a Star Wars movie with surround sound in the basement.

Ding! A message from Richard or Paige

Bing! A message from Timothy

Chime! A message from Daniel

Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap: the dog needs to come back inside.

“Here’s to the Fools who Dream…”: I am doing dishes or mopping.

Sniff, sniff beneath the door: the dog is looking for Richard.

Bwa ha ha ha: Mark is watching YouTube videos.

Scratchety scratch scratch: the dog is cold and needs to come inside.

Clickety clickety clickety clickety: Daniel is typing.

Long, sullen pauses and no eye contact: oh, boy, am I in trouble.

Crinkle, crinkle: I turn the pages of my scriptures.

Beeeeeeep, beeeeeeep: the chicken is cooked.

Blat blat blat: trombone practice

Toot toot toot: trumpet practice

Brrrrrruuum, diddly dum: a son practices piano.

Ping, pingy ping: Paige is playing the piano.

Lawrence Welk is on: it’s haircut time.

The hallway floor creaks: someone is looking for me.

Light streams beneath our bedroom door: someone is up late.

Longer stretches of silence each day: the kids are growing up and leaving.

 

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Angela

I write so my family will always have letters from home.

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