I'll miss the hum.

Sorry I haven't bogged in a while. Thank you to those who have missed my written words of life. I'm not much of a night person, having worked in the medical field all my life, mornings have always started earlier than I wanted and nights lasted longer than I could handle. Our home has settled into a dull roar with just one teenager left at home. With our son in college the windows no longer rattle from the roar of his electric guitar blaring out Jimi Hendrix tunes and I no longer am planning a massive gain weight dinner for a football player. Instead, dinner consist of a well planned healthy choice for a teenage daughter to maintain her weight. I have this new, wonderful front loading washer and dryer, so laundry doesn't even require much time and effort. So where am I in this thing called life? Last week, as I lay in our bedroom watching TV battling the heavy eyelid syndrome.....I heard....humming. Not thinking too much about it...I tuned back into the TV show I had been watching. Occasional conversation with my husband. Occasional napping as the physical exhaustion of being a surgical nurse took over. I heard our daughter, once again, in the kitchen....the soft sound of her humming. Humming that started as a small child. Humming, that her kinder garden teacher called the "most soothing, sweet sound during their quiet time". Humming that has come to be a barometer of her present state of mind. Humming that I have heard as she dressed for a dance or party. Humming that I have listened to as she packed her bags for cheer camp. On this night, it occurred to me how silent our home will become when the occasional hum from the kitchen will be somewhere off in her college dorm room one day. On this particular night it was the hum as she made her famous peanut and butter with jelly sandwich. A content hum. One that resonated "all is well." We will miss that hum one day. Our home will seem frighteningly quiet one day. The soft echo of our daughter's voice roaming up and down the sounds of notes will one day be a cherished memory. But, for now, I am going listen. I am going to smile when the content hum reaches my room. I am going to question when the hum has been silent for too long. I am going to look forward to others enjoying her smooth, soft melody that has come to fill our home with joy. Knowing that the music of one's soul is mean't to be shared for other's to come to love and understand.