Some people wouldn’t think that waking up at 5:30 on a day off is a good thing. But that’s how my day started, and I loved it.
We’re having a beautiful, surprisingly cool morning here in the Midwest. For a morning person like me, it’s a perfect day get up early and enjoy the way the slanted sunlight illuminates our still-green-and-lush garden; to listen to the song birds chat back and forth; to feel the dew on my feet as I step outside for the morning paper.
I revel in the silence. A gorgeous early morning alone is, for me, pure hedonism. The day stretching ahead seems full of enticing possibilities. The quiet time alone, accompanied only by golden sunlight and songbirds, feeds my soul.
Middle Sister wakes up and asks me to go for a walk with her and then make scones for breakfast.
The Boy wakes up and begins his incessant chatter about squirrels, combustible engines, the injuries he sustained doing yard work yesterday, juvenile rabbits, soccer, and anything else that’s swirling around in his overactive brain.
Briefly, it occurs to me to be annoyed at the interruption to my peace and solitude.
But before annoyance actually takes hold, I catch myself.
My 20-year-old daughter wants to spend time with me.
My 19-year-old son spent his first waking moments sharing with me what’s on his mind.
Late last night, our 23-year-old called from the east coast just as I was falling asleep. She needed a friendly voice as she stayed in lab alone until midnight finishing a process on her latest project.
And I am deliciously content with the interruptions.