On Waking Up

It was shortly before eight when I woke this morning. The sunshine streamed in the window creating patterns across the floor. I can hear the birds singing outside; feel the cool morning breeze blowing in my window.

Should I turn over and go back to sleep, I wonder. I can’t decide. Another hour would make up for some of the time I spent reading late into the night. I like easing into the day, but he book I couldn’t put down last night doesn’t capture my interest this morning, so I set it aside.

Instead I turn over and stretch my legs, wiggle my toes, feel my muscles tense and then relax. I rest my head on folded arms and feel...content.

It’s enough just to lie here and enjoy my bed, all comfortable and cozy. My thoughts go to my children, now grown with children of their own.

There are no peaceful mornings like this for them, no sleeping in, no moment for quiet reflection, for thinking, or not thinking as the case may be.

I remember those mornings, one minute you’re sound asleep, only to be jerked awake when the kids jump into bed with you. They have no understanding or appreciation for the concept of ‘sleeping in’.

The reality, even the memory, of early morning cuddles, teasing tickles, and hugs and kisses are the best way to start the day.

Enough of this, I’m well awake; sleep is lost to me now. I guess I’m getting up. I see coffee enjoyed on the patio, basking in the morning sun, in my near future.

A great way to start the day. Have a good one.