The house is quiet.
There are times when I've wondered, with both sadness and anticipation, what our home will be like after the children have moved out. I'm not claiming to know the answer to that question as yet, it has only been a day or two since their leaving.
The silence is both refreshing and uncomfortable. It seems the kind of silence one nurtures while a baby is sleeping--so thankful for the peaceful respite but held captive by the stillness lest the baby is awakened...except that there is no baby here any longer. She is almost four and has come home to nap in my bed for a bit before returning to her new abode.
In their new home, the children seem to exist in a more perfect harmony with one another. Their collective imagination is in a higher gear there too...where they live now. I'd even imagine that those cookies they're eating taste better in their new place than they did at my kitchen counter.
Their new home holds qualities with which my own home cannot compete:
adventure, a hefty sense of accomplishment (they built it themselves),
clean fresh air,
that pink(ish) bedroom the girls have always wanted,
a dining room with a ceiling created by God Himself,
one or two books,
the background music of nature, lemonade, and of course, those cookies.
I have high hopes that the children will return soon, I'm guessing by dinnertime (I'm making their favorite) or most definitely by nightfall. If not by then, I'm sure they'll show up for breakfast....they didn't take THAT many cookies with them!