It is strange to live alone, in a flat, over a relatively normal family. I can hear them. The kids start running around after 6.30 AM, every day. The boy, older, is the fastest -- his sister tries to keep up, but he's always faster. I hear them bumping up and down, up and down. Laughter, some crying. More laughter.
It might be that way all their lives, who knows? The mom and the dad laugh, someone strums a guitar in the living room on Saturday mornings. I've never heard dishes breaking, violent words screamed at the top of someone's lungs. Never felt the house shake when two bodies are locked in combat -- no pushing, shoving, threats.
I know things aren't perfect, the littlest one has a rough night every week. The boy walks around the yard smiling brightly, but his fists are tightly clenched if you touch any of his secondhand toys. The toys are his. His little sister mimics his territorial urge. But she can't do it convincingly, she's still too small, too young. It makes her confused.
Oh functioning, loving family. How will you change? What will happen next? Jobs lost, jobs got, promotions, school projects, some arguments, a sprinkle of girlfriends and later boyfriends that will shoot through, abide, then most will be gone. On to the next thing, then the next thing, college, leaving home. Starting your own relatively normal, loving families. In one or the other, there might be a guitar that is strummed on a Saturday morning, singing like you always did.
1 comment:
Life does seem to come full circle more often than not!
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