Giggles in the Dark

Chicken Soup for the Soul: Empty Nesters

BY: Sheri L. Torelli

With my husband away fighting a large brush fire in Northern California, I'd had a lot on my plate that week. Only my daughter and I were home for the evening, and I yearned for just a few minutes of quiet conversation with her. In just a few short weeks she would graduate from high school and take a job in San Diego.

I was hoping for some together time while we prepared supper, but Terra had homework and laundry and wanted to write a few letters to friends. We gobbled dinner and retreated to our rooms to complete our long To Do lists.

I fell into bed, completely exhausted. After a few minutes, I heard snippets of conversation and bits of laughter coming from her room. Normally, we have a cut off time for late-night telephone conversations, but I found myself feeling more lenient than usual, knowing her time at home was fleeting.

Even so, I had my limits. "Keep it down, Terra!" I called from my bed.

She complied for a few minutes, then the talking and giggling started again.

"Terra, I'm trying to sleep!"

Silence. But it wasn't long before I was roused by more giggles. "Be quiet and go to bed!"

After my fifth request, I decided to make sure she understood how serious I was. Marching in, hands on hips, I stopped short.

There she was in the dark, sprawled across her bed on her back, legs crossed, twirling the phone cord between her toes and giggling. The giggle that made me smile no matter what.

The giggle that reduced me to laughing out loud. The same giggle that today still moves me to laughter and tears. And, in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to capture the delightful scene in my mind and my heart. Soon, it would be gone forever.

That evening is now a long-ago memory. But every once in a while, when I walk into my office (her old bedroom), I don't see the desk or my bulging bookshelves or the pictures on the wall. Transported back in time, I see only my beautiful daughter -- on the threshold of her future -- sprawled across her bed and talking late into the night.

And I swear I hear her giggles in the dark.

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