Growing up I was, in essence, an only child. I have an older brother and an older sister but they were raised by my father and I went with my mother. I was a baby at the time and was not consulted when this decision was being made and have no Idea why we were separated.


I also had an older step brother, who despised my existence. But, my step brother lived with his mother and so there again I am left alone most of the time. Some may think it sad but I rather enjoyed being alone most of the time. I developed an active imagination and was easy to shop for. For instance my step dad gave me a box full of half used tape rolls from his place of employment for my birthday when I turned eight. As I write this I realize how sad that sounds but assure it was not, at least not to me. I loved it! As a kid you could give me some tape, a pair of scissors and a few cardboard boxes and some time alone and I was in heaven. I constructed elaborate castles and vehicles for my action figures for hours on end with the help of my box of tape.


Even now as an adult I need time alone every so often or I become a little cranky. The summer months are a bit tricky for me because the kids are out of school, my wife, the school teacher, is out of school and my grandson spends a lot of time at our house. Let me start by saying I love all of these people with all of my heart and would rather be around them more than any other group on the face of the planet.


That being said I need them to go away every so often and leave me alone with my thoughts. My wife, God bless her, has learned this lesson over the last 19 years and every so often just loads everyone up in the car goes somewhere. Thank God for my wife.


It has been an exceptionally busy summer with lots of visitors, particularly children, and alone time has been kind of rare. I have been coping the best I can and trying to make the best of things.


But now something odd is happening with everyone going back to school and getting back to their normal routines. The silence in the house is deafening. Gone are the sounds of my grandson Emytt’s feet pounding against the hardwood floor, coming into my office to ask for chocolate and demanding that I take him outside to play basketball or look for crickets. Gone are the sounds of my teenage boys slamming doors and rummaging around the kitchen for food. Gone are the sounds of my wife yelling for the boys and talking on the phone to her teacher friends.


It is a little strange for it to be so quiet and even more strange for me to miss the noise a little. However I know this: I will get used to the quiet. I will get used to being able to hear myself think and being alone; until Christmas break comes around of course.