Full Moon Rising

Listen to this reflection by playing the video below or continue down the page to read the full text version.

Delta Rae had it right—there is “No Peace in Quiet.” After the Celebration of Life was over and friends and family returned to their lives, the house Amy and I shared was very quiet. Too quiet. For the better part of twenty-eight years, our house had been the exact opposite, as it was typically a beehive of activity while we raised our three wonderful children.

From the early grade school years to the running_—and driving_—around of the middle and high school years, our house was rarely the quiet house. Our kids were never video game kids. They much preferred our enormous sand box and playset when they were little and outdoor sports and shenanigans as they grew older. The screeching and yelling from them and their friends was nearly a constant sound in our neighborhood.

One of the other mainstays at our household was dinner. We had always been a family that ate dinner together. Part of that was a function of the boys’ diabetes. From a very early age, we had structured our lives around eating meals in order to regulate the boys’ blood sugar levels and keep them on a healthy trajectory. Mealtime at the Youngquist household was rarely quiet. This was partly due to the post-meal sugar rush the boys experienced before their insulin could fully kick in and partly due to Amy’s skill and insistence in extracting the day’s events out of each of the kids.

Amy loved this time. Her ability to learn the details of her children’s lives was the envy of every parent in the neighborhood. It even trickled down to our much more reserved daughter, as she literally would have to compete for food with two hungry boys and for gaps in the boys’ conversation to share important aspects of her life with us.

Once on a particularly boisterous night at the dinner table, Morgan—a very tall six foot two at the time—saw fit to jump up onto his chair and moon his brother, who was sitting across the table from him. Seeing such a spectacle at an elevated height truly shocked Amy into full parent mode, and she scolded Morgan with appropriate vigor. Unfortunately, when she looked to me for reinforcement, I was of no help as I couldn’t stop laughing at the absurdity of the entire episode.

Even after launching our children off to college and then onto successful careers, our house was always busy. Just the way Amy liked it. We were fortunate to have everything from kayaks to the coolest potato gun ever made to lure the kids back. Amy’s talent for preparing food and her insistence on feeding them and their friends also had something to do with it.

I worry without that ever-present love and laughter from their mother that our house will digress into the quiet, sad house that no one wants to visit. The gift to build and nurture that same fun-loving atmosphere Amy created might be beyond my ability, especially as I mourn her absence. I have taken for granted the companionship, friendship, and love that has been a constant in this household. I miss it greatly and regret my complacency. There truly is “No Peace in Quiet.”