The outcome of quiet. For real quiet. The silent kind of quiet. And I’m slightly disturbed by it.
I’m always saying I want quiet. There is constantly noise around me. Usually it’s name is Jake, though his siblings and the dog help, too. And loud noise. Loud, loud, loud. People call me on the phone and they’re all, “What is all that noise?” and I’m all, “Jake” and they’re all, “Oh yeah.” 
Okay, it’s not always Jake. There’s the TV and the video games and the dishwasher and the computer and the dogs in the yards around and the other kids and their friends and the phone and the toys and the voices in my head and their friends, too.
So, like most moms and other caretakers of young children, I often say that all I want is a moment of quiet. Real quiet. Silent quiet. Just a moment. That’s all I want.
And then I got it. And it was deafening.
It happened a couple of weeks ago. Bald Man had taken Samantha to dance. My friend or my mom had the boys. I was headed to a photography class at the library. Only, there was a 45 minute window where I was the only one in the house. Really. Okay, the dog was here. But that’s it.
It was quiet. Truly quiet. No computers on, no TV, no toys, no phone, no dishwasher, just nothing. So, so quiet.
Other than that instance, I don’t remember that last time I was truly alone. And, like I said, the dog was even there that time. I occasionally get time alone in the car. And I often don’t even turn on any music because I just enjoy the quiet. No one in the backseat asking me questions. No two other people in the backseat trying to yell over the other one trying to ask me questions. Just quiet. But, even then, there’s the hum of the tires on the road, and other cars driving by. There’s always something.
But, back at home, in that 45 minute window, there was nothing. No hum that I could discern. No voices. No nothing. And it FREAKED ME OUT. And I’m not sure why. Other than that it just felt like something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Here, I was living my dream!!! For 45 minutes at least. And I almost couldn’t stand it. How disappointing.
I’ve never lived alone. I went from my parents’ house, had an apartment in college with a friend for a year, and then back to my parents’ for a year until I got married. I never wanted to live alone. I knew I never wanted to live alone. Maybe, intuitively, I knew that I couldn’t truly handle the quiet. Or maybe I was just afraid. One of those.
So, I’m thinking the truly, truly quiet and I lasted together for about 10 minutes. That was it. Then I stomped on the dog’s tail so he would bark and it would be loud and I would feel better.
Kidding.
But I think I did decide then that I could go ahead and leave early and get to the library and just read until my class started. Because, really, have you ever been in a library that’s truly quiet? Me neither.
So, the next time you hear me saying that all I really want is some peace and quiet, remind me that a dull roar is about the most quiet I can handle.
