Too Much Emptiness

Dearest Rachel –

Well, the boys just left for the convention as I got home from Bible study this morning. In fact, they were literally getting into Logan’s car as I reached the driveway, so I went around the block in order to allow him to pull out using the turnaround, rather than forcing them to back out onto the street. Whether they understood my intention by passing the house like I did, and whether he took advantage of the opportunity, I’ve no idea, but they were gone by the time I returned, so there’s that.

I’m sure you would wish them a good time out there – although if you were still here, you’d be going with them at this point. So I’d be home alone and on my own today no matter how things were. I might even relish the opportunity to hang around the house by myself for a few hours, doing what I want, watching what I want, that sort of thing. It’s not like I had to be circumspect when you two were here, or that I’d otherwise be doing things that necessarily bothered you. It’s just that there are things that I would enjoy (like sports, for instance) that there was no point in indulging in when either of you were around; especially since there was plenty of other stuff that we could – and did – enjoy together. So these times could be appreciated, even as you would apologize profusely at the end of these conventions for leaving me on my own; I tried to make it clear to you that it was no big deal to let you two do what you wanted like this from time to time, but you probably weren’t aware of how much I actually appreciated having a little bit of ‘me time’ like this now and again.

The thing is, a little bit of ‘me time’ now and again is one thing; it’s a whole different situation these days, when the house is empty (or Daniel is distant, off in his own world where I can’t – or don’t dare – reach him) on a regular basis. Once every few months is worlds apart from several times a week; these days, there is just too much emptiness in this house for me to deal with.

And I’m sure that sounds particularly funny when you take into account the fact that the house clearly hasn’t been all that empty this past month. More often than not, there are as many as a half-dozen people milling about, doing one thing or another as part of the remodeling project. But workers are not friends, despite an understandable need to be on friendly terms with them as much as possible – if ticking off a fast food worker might cause them to spit in your sandwich, imagine the catastrophic effects of annoying someone who’s building a room or two for your house, and the things they could do to you – so it’s hardly comparable. So it’s definitely a case of being lonely in the middle of a crowd.

And that’s not even the case on a Saturday, like today. There are no workers, and with Daniel gone, the place is utterly empty. I’m glad that he’s still able to have fun – and Logan and Erin can help see to that as well – but I’m left dealing with an eerily silent house for once. It’s slightly uncomfortable, and it gets increasingly more so as time goes on – my insistence on writing to you keeps it front and center in my mind, and apart from the tak-tak-tak on the keyboard, it’s a fairly quiet pursuit, so the activity doesn’t serve to dispel the silence.

I’m sure there’s a weather related aspect to all this, too – the gray skies outside are not exactly a conducive to a cheery mood. But even with that being said, it would still be silent if it were sunny here, and that’s more than enough. Even if it weren’t, I should add that, while I may be slowly acclimatizing myself to it, your absence on a Saturday morning gives an extra dimension to the sense of lack I feel.

If it’s okay with you, I might just back away from this letter for a bit, just to turn on YouTube and indulge in a little bit of mindless white noise for a while. Or maybe I’ve got to just get out of the house and do a bit of shopping – I do have a few coupons to use up before we leave for Kevin’s. Anything to keep busy, and ignore the silence.

So, keep an eye out for me, and wish me luck – I’m going to need it.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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