I was just trying to have a peaceful moment of reading on my favorite chair. It sits by the big window where the sun is always streaming into our living room.
But the kids were being SO. LOUD. There was no peace. They were screaming and playing and having a blast... really loud. Gosh... just, LOUD. Freakin' loud.
I was about to yell "BE QUIET!" Because, I really just wanted a moment of quiet and peace to sip on my tea and focus on my new book with its crisp pages just aching to be turned.
And so, I was about to yell.
And then... I didn't.
And I remembered a time when my little Neo was laying on the couch sick. So quiet. So ill. So sad. He had no energy to be up and playing with his sisters.
I remembered when Kedah was lethargic and couldn't even muster up a smile as she was sick in bed for a whole day, just so not her usual perky and joyful self.
All I wanted for them at those times was to feel better. To be heathy. And strong. And yes even loud. I wanted them to have their energy and joy back. Their crazy obnoxious out-of-control energy. I wanted to hear their screaming, yelling and contagious laughter. Because it was a sign of their stamina, vitality and healthy youth.
So I didn't say anything. I didn't yell. I sat there in adoration at the strong lungs on my children's healthy bodies. I smiled at their unceasing able-bodied jumping and wrestling. My heart sang with the sound of their laughter ringing through the house.
I remember happening upon a blog post a few years ago and it was written from a mom about her son. She was sharing how her and her husband were walking through a season in life of their 5 year-old son who had cancer. And they had reached the point where it was terminal. For weeks, they watched him wither away in their home while their two other children played around him.
I read about the pain she felt as she watched her little boy fade away right before her eyes. How she longed for the day when he would yell and run and play, but that it would never come again. This was the end.
I cried as I continued to read her pouring her heart out. I had never met her, but her story touched me. She talked about how it became so emotionally depleting for them. And her son only had a few days left to live and they sent their other kids to stay with her parents for a few days. Her and her husband had a day to spend with just him and say goodbye.
She said her husband went upstairs to take a shower and relax for a moment and she all of sudden heard this sound. This deep moaning and she had no idea what was going on. It was loud and powerful and she had never heard this sound before. She went upstairs and it was coming from the bathroom where her husband was showering. And she discovered it was the sound of her husband sobbing. Completely and utterly broken. Watching his son die. His 5 year old son literally sinking away to the end of his days. So young. So soon.
I couldn't imagine the depth of their pain. To have to go through that. To see their child go before them.
I will tell you this, their story has always stuck with me. To be grateful for each and every day of life. The healthy and the sick. But especially, to not take for granted those days of health.
With the screaming and yelling and craziness. I will take it all. With open arms and glad heart.
I will praise God and thank Him for my kids energy and VOLUME. In whatever capacity it arrives, dang... I am going to embrace the loud.
All photos by http://www.melissaleeannphotography.com/leeann.html