morning ritual

First thing, and no photographs because it is too dark. There’s the muttered good morning and the sound of the shower. The cat starts meowing for her people, and her breakfast. The coffee pot is finishing up its gurgling and spitting.

It’s all sleepwalking until we both arrive, mugs filled and steaming , at the sofa.  Usually there’s nothing profound, a few words about the duration and quality of sleep, a little mutual briefing on the hours ahead. We sit on the red couch until the mugs are empty and it is time to wake the middle schooler. It is a pause in the forward motion that propelled us out of bed and will resume to carry us through breakfast and shaving, packing lunches and goodbyes.

But without these moments, when we have company or a sick child, or he’s out of town, a day feels off kilter from its grey start. We’ve landed here next to each other, coffee in hand, for the better part of twenty years. From that seat next to him I am both grounded in my truest self and launched into whatever the foggy morning promises.

 

Happily joining in with daily prompts

for December with other good folks

at Write ALM

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4 thoughts on “morning ritual

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