Saturday, January 12, 2008

It's Quiet ...

When I left for Rhode Island earlier this afternoon around 4:30, it was with a very chatty 14-year old in the passenger seat. A 14-year old who talked non-stop for the entire 49.56 mile trip. Adding to the noise was the CD player and the Korn CD that she had chosen for background music.

When I drove back from Rhode Island a little after 7:00 p.m., it was in silence. No chatty 14-year old, no rock music, nothing except the sounds of the road and the thoughts in my head. Thoughts that just can never seem to wrap themselves around the concept of putting my youngest child on a plane and sending her to live somewhere else.

Every time I go through this I think that I've gotten used to it; that I'm not going to get a lump in my throat while the plane backs away from its gate, that I'll be able to keep my composure while I walk back down the concourse by myself; that I'm not going to cry while I drive home from the airport; that I'm tougher than that.

I'm not used to it; I do get a lump in my throat; I barely keep my composure; the tears do come; I'm not tougher than that.

As I write this I'm sitting at the computer in the dining room in a totally quiet house and listening to the refrigerator running in the kitchen and the dryer tumbling away in the basement below me because it's so quiet.

It's quiet because for the first time in quite some time, there is no one in the house but me. Amanda is staying over at Cate's house having opted not to make the trip to the airport with us and Jamie is probably somewhere over North Carolina on her way back to Tampa.

It's too quiet. And even though I am a person who relishes her quiet time, who enjoys having the house to herself on occasion, tonight it is too quiet.

Except for my thoughts. Which are too loud.


  1. i'm so sorry you have to send her back there honey. just so sorry...

    smiles, bee

  2. Oh, Linda... I'm so sorry. Sometimes "silence is golden," but other times it's deafening.
    It won't be too long until Jamie can live with you of her own volition!

  3. Feeling your pain, Linda.
    I waved to Jamie as she flew over. She's fine. We're worried about you but it's good you can blog about it. I don't know how I would handle this. I really don't.
    You are very brave. This must be incredibly difficult. Sorry.

  4. What we as mothers go through. You're in my prayers and in my heart.

    Brain Foggles

  5. Anonymous11:28 PM EST

    Much love to you, my friend. I don't know the background here, being a new friend and all, but I can tell that your pain is immense. I'll pray that you'll be covered in peace and calm and that your thoughts will not spin out of control.

  6. I can imagine how painful that must be Linda. I feel for you honey, I really do. Have a great bit ((HUG)) x

  7. Anonymous9:43 AM EST

    peace, my friend.

  8. That must be so difficult for you. I can't imagine it.

    It's good you can get some feelings out by blogging about it.

  9. Buck up Solider. You can do it. Hang in there kid. I now it's crazy tough. I heart for ya girl. Just letting you know I care and was here.

  10. First, what a great avatar "Callie Ann" - Nice.

    I too know that silent sound. All to well sometimes. I think that's what attracted me to blogging. I had no idea that people communicated SO MUCH on these pages we write.

    LOL @ Korn. Not easy listening by any means!!!


  11. ((( HUGS ))) Such a shame we don't love closer to each other.


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