The sound of silence

Well, more like the sound of the gentle hum of the dryer.

It's the sound of clean clothes, but it's also the sound of company gone. Everyone used to come to our house for Labor Day weekend. My aunts and uncles and cousins. We would cook a big pot of my Grandpa's clam chowder, laugh, argue. It was great. Everyone had fun spending time together.

Then, on Monday, everyone would leave in the early afternoon. And the house was a weird sort of quiet. Nothing but the sound of towels and sheets in the washer and dryer. No more loud voices and kids playing. Just laundry, and the tail end of the Jerry Lewis Telethon.

I've had three guests since I moved to Florida that stayed with me. (Jan & Dick came too, but they stayed at a hotel.) And each time, we had a a lot of fun. But then they went home, and there was the weird silence again, just the sound of laundry instead of laughing. Then I let out the air in the air mattress, and folded all the sheets and towels, and emptied the dishwasher, and it's almost like they were never here at all. But in that weird silence, I remember that they were, and that it was fun while it lasted. I can't wait until the next visitor, whoever it might be.

At least they know I have clean sheets and towels.