Tonight, my (our) quiet house feels so loud. Quiet without Sara here, but still so loud…
the air from the air conditioner blowing through the vents;
the watery metallic sounds from the dishwasher that takes over two hours to complete a load;
the periodic crash of fresh ice being dumped into the bin by the ice maker;
the rumbling sounds of traffic outside;
occasional scuffle sounds from the cat interacting with something;
the clicks of the keyboard as I try to fill my time before bed…
I hear all this noise because my ears are still constantly searching for the sounds that I will never hear again…
Sara’s excited voice when she wants to bring something to my attention;
her warm laughter that had a way of wrapping itself around me in a hug;
Sara pulling the car into the garage after being away from the house, and the dogs barking excitedly that their mom is home;
soft clicks of her knitting needles as we sit together and watch TV;
Sara’s breathing as we coexist together – at night joined by her CPAP machine that helped her breathe better;
my phone’s vibration when she called or messaged me during the day while I was working…
My ears still search for these sounds, but instead are just filled with the sounds of this house that feels so empty without my love.
I’m sorry for your loss.
Thank you for sharing.
I’m experiencing many of the same things. One thing I found helpful was to get a different phone. Different size, different color, and I’m not checking it for texts from her (as often, at least).