The sound of silence…

There are a few moments in the busy day and life of a parent in which you might find yourself alone. Usually, for me, it is while I am in transit between point A and point B. I may take a side street to avoid the cacophony of the larger and more frequented streets that are everywhere in New York. The hustle and bustle suddenly subsides and I might actually hear a bird chirping and hear the leaves on a tree lined street rustling. No cars are hurtling by and there is no one to bump into as I make my way down the street. If the sun is shining I sometimes stop to enjoy this moment. It is rare, but precious – like anything that is teetering on the edge of extinction. The loneliness of the moment is quite intoxicating. I can hear my thoughts. I can hear my breathing. I can remember what it was like when I was not a father and had time to just do absolutely nothing if I so chose. And then I turn the corner and plunge back into my life – my now. I do miss those moments, but I miss them because I am in a better place right now. I have my own family to go home to with a son who yells “Daddy!” when I open the door and hugs my leg. Just that moment is enough to make me survive the craziness that is being a parent. I can only appreciate the silence now that I can no longer have it on demand, but no longer really need it to function. One of the many contradictions of parenthood that I live without regrets.