News, the manna of a day.
Mary Anne Everett Greene
It is 7:00 o’clock Tuesday morning and I stare at that loud ticking clock, the one that sits above a small screen TV. My body tells me it is 6:00 o’clock and I struggle to get my head wrapped around this time change, I fall asleep earlier and drag myself out of bed later, and still remain exhausted. I am pretty sure there is no daylight savings time going on in my world as I seem to drop to sleep as soon as the sun goes down, last night that happened to be in my chair with my knitting needles and this morning it is still dark as I drag my body out to my kitchen to see my sunrise. There is no glorious sunrise to bring that smile to my face today dull, dull dull. I pour a coffee and plop into my chair with a thud, my head still fuzzy with strange dreams and thoughts from long ago.
The TV is on and its humming, buzzing sound penetrates those thoughts. I never leave the TV on in the mornings but since My Hero had been catching up with the world’s events and of course our ever changing weather before his heading off to work and on my hearing the weatherman warning of more snow on its way I left it on to listen. I now find I am just too tired to get up off my chair to switch that noisy box off. The noise and the images that flash across the screen bring a flood of memories.
A very crowded house from long ago where this very same show Canada AM was always on. A little TV in the middle of a swirling churning house full of that same constant humming, buzzing, chattering noise, but mixed with the sounds of constant running and scrambling, of screams of “Where’s my sock?” mixed with childish laughter as many children were trying to get ready to start their day while all the time two exhausted parents were somehow with all the confusion and noise still able to hear what was going on in the outside world coming into our home from this tiny box.
Dad was sitting in front of the TV with a newspaper while listening to this news, he always had this incredible need to know what was going on in that world outside, I often wondered why. The news had always frightened me as a child those images of horrible things that happened all over the world making me wanting to never leave this place of constant humming buzzing chatter and those sounds of running, scrambling and screams of “Where’s my sock?” mixed with childish laughter.
No matter how many times I dreamed of someday having my own place filled with silence I seemed to always find myself unwillingly drawn to that TV flashing with its images of death, heartache and constant fighting and I remember how its humming, buzzing chatter always made me worry about that world and thinking that it was only filled with unimaginable noise and constant turmoil, making me need to cling ever so tightly to my own noisy room. Why did my Dad have this constant need to know all those frightening things?
Did he not find that he filled his head with enough humming, buzzing chatter and those sounds of running and scrambling and screams of “Where’s my sock?” mixed with childish laughter every morning there in that crowded house sitting in the middle of a protected room where we had only let the outside world in through that little TV every morning.
Oh I have to admit I do miss those noisy mornings sometimes. I know I am like my Dad with that need to know what is going on in this world but I pull myself up and I turn off my little TV, something he must not have been able to do; once again I surround myself with a room filled with silence. Did my Dad ever want to do that too, or was he just trying to drown out the constant chatter and those sounds of running, scrambling and screams of “Where’s my sock?” mixed with childish laughter or was it really an unexplainable need to know what he was missing outside in the “real” world?
My sunrise is finally trying to make an appearance, there’s that smile I knew was there. I now have this overwhelming need to once again surround myself with a true silence as those memories swirl around in my head. My head is still fuzzy and I wonder how the cows are holding up with the daylight savings time thing. Could their heads be fuzzy too? They are lucky that they do not have a clock to stare at, so probably not. I’m coming girls; then I will be off to the bush and my world.