Maximillion

Maximillion
I DEFINITELY SMELL SOMETHING

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Sounds

drip...drip...drip

She lays in bed, eyes closed and listens to the leaky faucet in the bathroom.  It's a familiar sound that has been going on for years.  Every morning for around ten to fifteen minutes, that faucet will slowly drip and then suddenly, it will just stop.  She's never bothered to fix it.

drip...drip...drip

It's early and the sun is beginning to peek though the bedroom window.  It's rays gingerly reaching across the dresser, over the carpet and climbing up to her bed.  She can feel the gentle warming of her blankets and eventually, her face.  She closes her eyes tighter knowing the light will shine too brightly once it reaches her line of sight.  She meant to get a black out shade for that window but just never got around to it.

drip...drip...drip

Later in the day, the sun will stretch its beams fully into the room, causing the temperature to rise and making the air too stuffy for comfort.  She thinks once again about having a ceiling fan installed but that's all it is, just a thought.

drip...drip...

She opens her eyes.  The sound of that leaky faucet has been her wake up call for as long as she can remember, whispering dawn's arrival in her ear each day.  Once the dripping stops, she knows it's time to rise.  She squints as the sunlight flashes in her eyes and quickly sits up to place herself back in the shadows and allow her sight to adjust.  I really should do something about that window.

creak creak.

creak creak.

The floorboards sound their protest as she walks across them.  In her mind, she likes to think the sounds are an echo of her own reluctance to greet the day, rather than a reflection of their age and condition.  Not likely to fix those anyway.

pop pop pop pop

Her joints make their opinions known as well as she bends to pick up her robe which has slid off the foot of the bed and onto the floor.  They appear to be even more reluctant to greet this day than she is.  The pain, a screaming reminder that she should make that appointment to see the rheumotologist.  She will...later.

squuueeeaaak

Her bedroom door slowly swings open on hinges badly in need of oil.  One more thing she hasn't managed to get to yet.  At the edge of the partially open door, just below the doorknob, a small hand has curled into view.  Following that hand, a round face appears, with chubby cheeks and big brown eyes that peer at her from under a tangled mass of long dark hair.  She holds out her arms to her daughter.

thump thump thump thump thump

The child runs into the room and leaps into her mother's arms.  Their embrace contains everything they are for just a brief moment and then they tumble to the bed, accompanied by kisses and giggles.  Now, she is ready to face the day.

sigh

Not a true sound, just a release of pent up air.  The source of the sound is unclear but if someone were to be looking at the house from the street at that exact moment, they might have noticed that the sagging awning seemed a little straighter and the dingy paint seemed a little brighter, if just for a brief moment.

13 comments:

  1. I think sound can carry the sense of familiarity, safety & security as sight (even if those sounds aren't all pleasant). Maybe part of why we sometimes take so long to fix that squeaky hinge is because we'd miss the squeak.

    Love it!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wow. This so reminds me of a paper I wrote in college about waking up crabby until I was greeted by my infant son each day. It really made me smile. Thanks.

    Dana C

    ReplyDelete
  3. @ Vinny...I agree, there are some quirlky things, that just make a house a home

    @ Dana...mothers undertsand that feeling better than anyone.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Awe. I totally loved this. It reminds me of my Sunday mornings. Without the drip, drip, and the creak, creak, and the daughter.

    Mine's usually snore, snore (Almost Hubs) ping, ping (Bonus Brother's texting phone) and MA, I"M HUNGRY!!!! (both of my two boys)

    ReplyDelete
  5. @ Julianna...my Girls are actually 18 & 19 now so I no longer hear the words "I'm Hungry", I have refused to hear them. Snore Snore and ping, ping are still a regular part of my mornings, though.

    ReplyDelete
  6. This makes me want to have a child.

    Realize life is more than a to do list, and dripping taps/toilets/squeaky doors.

    Very nice.

    Seriously?... Reeeally??... Seriously?

    _

    ReplyDelete
  7. @ Stephanie...it's nice to remember what's truly important every once in a while. Thanks.

    ReplyDelete
  8. awwwww.....such a beautiful story...wish I could write like you...

    ReplyDelete
  9. @ cat...you wish you could write like me? I've read your stuff and now...I'm blushing profusely

    ReplyDelete
  10. Goodness, I woke up feeling the same way this morning.

    The wonder in the everyday.

    Thank you

    ReplyDelete
  11. @ Empress...that's my new thing, psychic posts. It's got to hit the mark sometimes. I do like the thought of taking time to enjoy the little things since there are plent more of those.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Lovely story. I really miss those mornings when my children were a lot younger and they'd clamber into bed with me. Or going back to when they were still babies and I'd wake in the morning, look into the bassinet by my bed to be met with a beaming smile. *sniff*

    ReplyDelete