The echo of empty.
It has taken only a few days and a multitude of friends to empty this house.
While we emptied, we danced.
We put on my crazy, eclectic playlist and we danced our way through the process of packing.
I love the shuffle button. Not knowing what comes next is half the fun. (she says smiling wryly).
I was able to educate the young ones, born in the early 90s, when "Just walk away Renee" came on. (The Rick Price version, obviously)
We sang our hearts out to "Sweet Caroline" (dah dah dah)... Throw in some Whitney, Lionel, Taylor, Ella, Guy, Bono and friends...add in Coldplay, Crowded House, The Beatles. No-one gets left out in my eclectic shuffle.
Doing everything and doing nothing is made remarkably better with a truly surprising playlist.
And when the last box was packed and the last chair was put in the truck, the playlist had done it's task. Music had been the balm that I needed while I packed away our possessions.
And everything is packed.
And the house is empty.
And empty houses echo.
Tonight, because it's late and I'm ridiculously tired, this house echoes the moment my sons got Sadie the dog. The joy of that moment- the long awaited furry friend addition.
It echoes the sun drenched week I spent watching my twins suddenly realise that they can actually swim.
It echoes the friends sitting around our table, sharing the high and low points of 2012 as we welcomed in the new year. If I had known then what I know now, would I have raised my glass and smiled as the clock chimed midnight?
It echoes the moments that stretched out between doctors appointments as something sinister snuck up on us.
It echoes the moment I cried harder than I think I've ever cried before. Laying on the study floor. Realisation washing over me in waves.
Cancer and chemotherapy and sons going to stay with grandparents type waves.
An echo is a remnant left from something that has been.
A laugh that lasts when time has already moved forward.
A cry that lingers when the sadness has eased.
My days are littered with echoes- The loudest echo that I pay heed to is the reminder of grace when I need it most.
The lingering majesty of the moment of the cross- that's an echo that is worth inclining your ear towards.
The sometimes whispered and often bellowed reminder that we are not forgotten, He knows our name. He has called us by name. That is an echo I will lean into time and time again.
My darling husband as a boy.
Echoes of that cheeky lad are present even now.
Cute huh????
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