Happy Noisy

I keep thinking about this moment from last week.

When I came home from work, I could hear loud voices all the way from the back alley. The voices were clearly recognizable as the other three members of the Johnson family. They were all talking, passionately, at the same time. I didn't feel good about that; my radar went up.

You see, loud, passionate, simultaneous talking is often an argument or a dispute in process. That usually means I have to be some form of mediator. So I approached the house with a growing sense of dread.

But... as I made my way across the back yard, closer to the house, I could start making out details of the interaction. It was passionate, and loud, and excited, sure. But boisterous. Happy. Laughing. They were having fun. I was buoyed immediately.

As I came through the door, I was pounced upon:

• M hugged me and gave me a piece of paper. As I looked at the paper, I slowly realized that M had written a page of original sheet music for the piano. There was a melody, with note symbols. There were lyrics. It was a complete - if somewhat inaccurate - representation of sheet music
• R was in the middle of a goofy outburst. He stopped mid-sentence, whirled around like the Tazmanian Devil and proclaimed "Neither Mom nor I have had our meds today! So whoo whooo whooo beware!" and laughed (almost) maniacally for theatrical effect.
• C, standing at the kitchen, mid-laugh herself, looked at me sweetly, and said "he's right. No meds today."

"Thanks for the warning. I'm glad to know. I can adapt to that!" I said as I kissed each person in turn.

And adapt we did. R got some extra room to be out-of-control, but he was still held to a behavioral standard. C got love and respect even as she processed information at a much reduced rate from normal.

We're not perfect. We're, all four of us, works in progress. We work to figure it all out and to create harmony amongst ourselves. Some days, we do it gracefully. Some days, we fail to achieve harmony at all. And in between are days where we achieve harmony in that clumsy or fleeting way that reminds me of the sports phrase "winning ugly."

On this particular day, it was "winning ugly." But we won. That's the ultimate goal.