What morning means to me is a chance to catch my breath. It is the only part of my day that is quiet and my mind is sharp. No distractions, no stressful events that have squelched my creativity.
I love to lay awake at the wee hours of the morning and think about my life. My triumphs and mistakes and how I may learn from the day before.
I think of the books I would love to write how I need to improve my grammar. I think of the places I would love to visit, of the people I would love to see.
I think of my sons now grown, and wish I had the knowledge I have now when they were young. I find solice in the fact that today is another opportunity.
I think of my beautiful daughters and quietly, even when they do not know I am awake, I think of the things that they love and I dream with them.
I think of my husband and how patient he is with me and my friends who are always there when I need them. I think that in spite of all the things I will find in this day to whine about , how truly blessed I am.
Just as I begin to engage the fantasy of the wonderful things I would like to do for myself , read, write, take a walk, I hear the sqeak of my 4 year olds bedroom door and the shuffle of her feet making her way down the hall toward my room. Then the sound of her breath, silently begging at the edge of my bed, waiting for me to reply "get in" the morning is behind me, my day has begun.