Momentary Respite

After everything finally fell into place and against all odds, through sheer spit and kharma, they were together.  From the other room I can clearly see them and though I can’t make out every thing that is said, I can hear their noise, oh their joyful  sweet noise.  There is so much laughter  – the waves of it rolling like the tide coming in late and in a hurry.  The rise of giggles and chuckles,  wry snorts and barely suppressed guffaws swelling into peals of howling replete with knee slapping and table pounding fading away into hiccups and eye wiping only to begin again.  That joy could be, without the benefit of sound, mistaken for grief, does not escape my notice.  But this one moment is all joy.  The bossy one being imitated and mocked, the goofy one put on display and paraded around, and the charmer  being charming in all manners of charm: the recipe is far more successful than the fondant creations they aare attempting. 

In a moment of insanity perhaps, I join the play and my unexpected addition of “Ronnn …  Ronnn …  Ronnn… WEA-seley” to their round-robin singing is met with falling off the chair helpless laughter; the kind that leaves one breathless and weepy.  My heart lifts at the satisfaction of making them laugh even more.

This mix of tender sibling sweetness, the actual sweetness of melted candy bits and confectioners sugar, and the bittersweetness of grieved knowledge is too rich a concoction to hold out for long and sure enough the moment comes when hilarity is hurtful, when silly stings the heart, and when truth is too close.

From afar or from near, the picture didn’t change much  but the tone of voices became harder, more shrill and tight, the peak of waves fizzling out into small discontent rolling that takes away more than it gives and I stand to intervene.