Listen. Hear something? Please tell me I am not alone in being the child of a Dad who used that line before he farted. Please?! I didn’t realize it gets passed down to the younger generations either, but after spending a week with my stepsons I can assure you it has. But for whatever reason, I still chuckle whenever I hear that phrase, a reminder of what it was like to be five, carefree and actually hanging around to hear the fart sound.
Currently, I’ve been hanging around to listen to as much Adele as possible. Anyone else?! I apparently listened to it so much that I could hear one of my stepsons singing “hello, can you hear me” throughout the house. Stepmom for the win!
In thinking back on my Thanksgiving week, I did a lot of listening. Not only to farts and Adele, but also to stories, nature, the Nebraska Huskers football game, the new washing machine, YouTube videos, Halo 4, NPR, podcasts, poker chips being stacked, and cards shuffling. There was a constant hum of sounds that is only possible to replicate when the house is full of that many people. Now in a house with just me and my husband, there is a quiet that almost feels uncomfortable, a quiet we have to get used to again.
Sometimes you need quiet to hear what is trying to be communicated to you. There is always change and this year has been no exception. And with just three weeks left in December there is another round of change occurring and I am going to sit on my hands and wait it out. I have no control and despite any of the options swimming around in my head, there is no way to get control. I just have to wait. I just have to be patient. I have to listen to the quiet and find comfort in the unknown. It is a task that doesn’t come easy, but I am up for the challenge. Anything can happen, right?