There is a silence in my home today.
If I listen very carefully I can almost head the sound of the sea, as you would if you held a seashell or glass to your ear.
My body aches, and my fingers are blistered from racing go-karts and swinging a golf club. My shoulders stiff for the same exact same reasons.
Yet through all this, I am content; for all this pain is a good pain - born of good things and good times.
There is nothing worse than the numb that proceeds a Sunday evening, and bleeds into a week of Mondays.
But none of this today - the quiet and ache sustains me, and all is well.