Thursday, April 8, 2010

Parent Patter

As a child, I remember drifting to sleep with the sounds of my parents sifting through the muted lights of the house. Like a lullaby, their voices, sounds and conversations lulled me to sleep. I usually wondered what they discussed, questioning whether it was different than the conversations held when I was awake. But those questions lingered only for moments as I fell asleep rapidly, calm because of their proximity and constant rhythm.

The evening sounds of parents, especially the very special sounds that accompany dinner parties and company, lure like moths to a flame. I still remember drifting to sleep to the hypnotic sounds of clinking glasses, bursts of laughter and hushed whispers. It all seemed so lyrical, glamorous and adult.

Now, as my children sleep (through most anything--a major blessing), I wonder what prattle and pixilation of hubby's and my evenings rise up through the rafters into their rooms and shape their dreams. Do they hear the music of our amblings? Do our sound patterns provide a cellular-level grasp of our nearness, and their safety? Will they remember hubby and I kissing them each night, whispering our love like a skipping record into their ears and souls?

I hope so.

And in a natural turn of events, I now find that the symphonic nighttime sounds of my children crafting a new lullaby. A little cough, a tousled sheet, the padding of pudgy feet to the bathroom. A long, contented sigh. All wrapping me in a nestled, idyllic hug. Fleeting yet divine. I know that the beautiful harmony might give way to dissonance at any moment (vomit, fevers, nightmares and wet beds). So I embrace the melodic while it resides right here, right now.


Amy said...

Oh, I've thought about this many times in the last year. Yes, exactly. The sounds muted sounds of my parents downstairs while we slept upstairs. The sounds that lulled us to sleep. And I too loved the sounds of the parties--so glamorous to me when in reality were most likely simple potluck get-togethers. Ah, childhood. My daughter seems to need complete silence to sleep. So my husband and I walk around whispering like church mice in the evening but I hope that some time in the future our evening sounds will be a comfort to her as well.

Mayhem and Moxie said...

What an utterly fantastic post! You have such a talent for writing. I found myself reading through this post and nodding along the entire time.

You were able to put into words my own thoughts that I have never been able to. Simply beautiful.

Lindsey said...

Gorgeous. I too have those memories of my parents' evenings floating up through the heating vent that was next to my bed, and I also have a profound and deep response to the sounds of my own childrens' sleep now. I love the idea of whispering into their souls like a skipping record. Oh, I hope they can hear me.

Theta Mom said...

Gorgeous - simpy gorgeous. You my friend, are also an amazing writer. The way you craft words together to create an image is nothing short of fantastic.

MaFerron said...

I loved this bedroom was at the top of the stairs and I used to fall asleep with my feet still in my room (because I wasn't allowed to leave my room) and head watching the banter and folly going on during my parents' dinner parties. fond memories. thank you for bringing that all back