Tiptoeing around the house

Morning of January 2. 

New Year.  A happy new year?
Fresh opportunities?  New start? New plans? Or the same as in the past

He leaves his room.  Like in a trance. He does not look me in the eye.  The bathroom door closes behind him.  One minute passes, two minutes… three…ten minutes.  – Out of the bathroom, into the recliner in the living room.  Okay.  You want to sit there.  No questions asked.  His gaze is introverted.  Hazed.
Time to pay the debt.

– Mom. Earmuffs!

Mom gets the earmuffs.  Mom gets water.  Mom gets the fan

I do not make a sound.
I tiptoe around.

– Mom. Hungry.

Mom gets bread and cheese.  Quiet like a mouse.  Serves quietly.

Fan off. Fan on.
The empty plate placed on the kitchen counter.  Carefully, like it had a pillow under it.

I feel like eating an apple.  I feel a bit peckish.  I take one bite.  Hear a sigh!

– Does my chewing bother you?
– Yes!

The apple has to wait.

Hours pass.  One hour. Two hours, three, four.
Hours filled with … silence!

Healthy! I am healthy.
My aches and complaints are like grains of sand in the desert.
What I have endured and stood up against in my life is like a simple gush of wind compared to a hurricane.
I don’t need silence.
I will endure this for him.

– Mom. Hungry.

Moms can’t cook dinner in total silence.

– Heat the lasagne?
– Yes.
– You have to stand the microwave then.
– Mom. Move first.

I move all the things into the bedroom.
Then I can use the microwave.
Dinner is served in bed.  In total silence.

«Debt» is being paid.

Then I can eat my apple!
By HR

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