The silence was not like any silence I had heard before, It was as if we were the only two people in the world that existed.
The next day we awoke to the alarm of a woodpecker, it was perched in the tree outside the window.
She began to cry, but I wasn't sure exactly why, she said she hadn't seen one since her mom died.
She confessed that even though the burnt bacon reminded her of her mom's breakfast midsummer mornings - it didn't taste the same.
Even though the orderly cabinets and overly organized closets reminded her of helping her grandma - it didn't look the same.
Even though the sounds of the light waves on the lake reminded her of boating with her brother - it didn't sound the same.
Even though the smell of the spilled beer and bonfire reminded her of late-night family sing-alongs - It didn't smell the same.
Even though the feeling of the billowing breeze reminded her of playing ball with her pa - It didn't feel the same.
She thought that, by replaying and reliving all the steps of her childhood, she could move forward with her life, not realizing she was taking two steps back.
But the Woodpecker – that was her sign – and she believed so much in signs. The Woodpecker broke the silence and in turn so did she.