The Quiet

I hear it’s deafening roar in my ears…She is not here and the sound of the silence without her is louder than what her baby cries used to be…In vain, I listen for her morning chirping little voice announcing “Get uppy please”..her requests for “stwaberries” …her emphatic proclamation “I will get down” and of course, the sweetest word….”Grandma”. But it is only the silence that surrounds me like a too heavy blanket and it suffocates instead of comforts as blankets are meant to do.  As a person who has always enjoyed the quiet (interspersed  with  music  by Springsteen, Handel, Gnarls Barkley and others)  it amazes me how this quiet just haunts, menacingly taunting me over and over with the phrase “she is not here”.   And I miss her…more than words could ever say…

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