The Noise Of Nightime Comfort


traffic at nightWe don’t live out in the country even though we live in North Carolina. We don’t live in the big city either. If you had to describe where we live you would most probably call it the “suburbs”.

Growing up I remember my bedroom at my grandad’s house. My grandad’s house wasn’t in the big city either but it did sit right on a big city road. At all hours of the night cars would drift by and the busy hum of traffic haloed by orange street lights would slip in through the bedroom window. Each night I would nod off while I wondered where all those people were going and what they were doing. I wondered why they were out so late and who they were with. I wondered if they took comfort from the orange street lights that guided their way and mine.

On occasion, as I lie in bed at night in this house I hear those sounds. I smile to myself when I hear a distant train roll by miles away. I feel a warmth rise in my heart when I hear cars rumbling down the highway that sits a couple of miles from my home. There is a saying that says “you can’t go home again” but sometimes, when the house is still and the day has drifted away I do go home again. Sometimes when I lay here alone and I let my eyes close I go back home. I imagine the sheets tucked tightly around me. I hear my sister sleeping in a bed beside me. I listen to my grandfather’s slow and rhythmic breaths in his bed across the room. I let the hum of a busy highway take me back, for just a moment, to a simple time. A time when my heart felt like bursting each and every day because I knew that I was loved. And I was.

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One Response to “The Noise Of Nightime Comfort”

  1. 1
    Queen Bee says:

    Cherished memories make life worth living <3


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