One of the hardest things to bear when I go home is the silence. It's everywhere and it's something that's very hard to fight. Things were so very different when mum was still with us, our home always seemed to be full of talking and laughing and music, a lot of it. Now everything seems to be quiet. Even talking and music sounds different. It sounds silent.

I think the only day in a year when we actually overcome this sad silence is February the 24th. Or at least it felt that way today. Because first, it's my dad's birthday, and it's easier to face the silence when we're all there. All of us kids went home for a day and just about everything is better when we're together. And secondly, because it's also Estonia's independence day and that's an extra reason to celebrate. So this is how it looked today - we spent most of the day in the kitchen (which is way too small for everyone to be there at the same time) and S., the chef in charge, made sure everything was running smoothly and the full menu was prepared, and then the radio was blasting in the corner and we kept singing along all the national songs they played (I don't know if every nation has something like it or whether it's uniquely Estonian thing but honestly, there seem to be hundreds of patriotic songs, old solo songs and pop songs and most beautiful choral pieces in the world, and then of course recordings from our song festivals, so on the independence day they play them endlessly without one song being repeated, or so it seems, and we know them all by heart. It's like these songs are part of our flesh and blood and Estonian-ness. It's really quite something.) But then the tv was playing in the living room and every now and then someone had to run and watch or listen to something from the tv where they showed the military parade and the ceremony with the president giving out the badges of merit. And after we were done with cooking and singing and after the long birthday lunch we would gather around the tv again and watch the presidential ball (we actually stood up and sang the national anthem, crammed around tv) and listen to his annual speech. And it felt like for one day the house was full of voices again.

But as we got ready to leave, the silence crept out of the corners again and we had to leave dad home alone, fighting the stillness and silence and sadness...

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I think it's appropriate that I post an Estonian song today. It is not a patriotic song or anything, it's just a simple love song. And I like it. I remember teaching Estonian some five years ago in Tartu Uni, and I played one Estonian song to my students every week. This was one of the songs I played to them. It's Liisi Koikson and her song Sinu Hääl (Your Voice). Here's a rough translation:

I send greetings, can you hear me?
Is it morning there or do the evening winds blow?
How is the weather? Hot?
It rains here, and apples ripen
I wish you well in my mind
There are just couple of lines left
I could even walk on water
But why is it so hard to tell you...

To tell you that I care for you
And that your voice, your voice makes me so happy