There were many comforting rites of passage that came with the changing of the seasons in our home. Fall was filled with Friday night football games followed by hot chocolate and popcorn. Winter was filled with fires in the stove and logs on the hearth. Spring was a time to dig my little girl toes in the dirt as my mother planted petunias in the front yard and summer was the time to put in the air conditioners.
My childhood home was built for a working class family in the 1950's and central air was not part of the package, so it was a family event to get the window air conditioners in place.
As lightening bugs and cicadas put on a summer performance night after night outside the windows, our family was lulled to sleep with the deep throaty hum of our window air conditioners. The world melted away and the hummmmmmmming met a need in our souls to be lost in something constant and steady. Something that surrounded and wrapped our busy minds with calm.
Now that the children are grown and all three of us have made homes of our own we each have sought out that comfort again. My oldest brother keeps fans in the rooms of his children. My middle brother has a fan on his night-table too. My parents have since replaced the noise of the window unit with central air and a sleep apnea machine.
I have no window air conditioner or fan, but my heart still longs to be nestled into something deep and calm. And night after night, as I settle under the strong shoulder of my beloved I find that I am wrapped in security, not with noise but with the constancy of presence. Season after season, my husband is my white noise.
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