I love the casualness of mornings.
The blinds still closed. Keeping out the eyes of the outside world so that you're still sequestered and cocooned.
The mussed up hair. The jammies. The vulnerability of who you really are. Because your mask isn't on yet.
Blankets all askew on the beds. Speaking to the humanity of your situation. Testifying that you needed comfort and warmth and rest and restoration. Marking the place where you found your dreams.
The sound of kibble hitting steel dog bowls. And the gurgle of the coffee maker preparing our motivation. The beginnings of movement and routine and responsibility.
That first streeeeetch. Murmured conversations between husband and wife. Connecting. Communicating. Planning.
That first sight of a freshly wakened young child already fully engaged in some fantasy world of play. The older child who will sleep well past noon of allowed, snoring blissfully among all the sounds of a household awakening.
Cool pillows. Warm showers. Hot coffee. Possibilities. And a fresh start. A new day.
And above all a deep, deep sense that you are deeply loved and abundantly provided for.
No comments:
Post a Comment