The alarm, “EHH! EHH! EHH!”, yells. I feel Billy roll over, reach and shut it off. Ah, quiet again. Billy immediately sits up, I hear his rustle as he puts on a sweatshirt or a flannel, not sure which it is this week, and makes his way to the bathroom I hear him turn on the light. I keep my eyes closed tight. I am not ready for light. I pull the covers up close to my chin. I listen for his footsteps down the stairs. I am fascinated by his quick descent in the dark.
I hear the clatter of dishes and the open and close of the refrigerator door. “It’s time to get up, Dawn.” I roll over and sit up. I feel the cold hardwood floor on my bed warmed feet and quickly put on my socks. I hate cold feet. I reach for my ratty tatty sweater in the dark. Still not ready for light. One arm in, next. Button a few random buttons. I reach for the shade and pull it up. I can hear the birds chirping. It’s not the full on symphony of the spring and summer. Maybe it’s a quartet. I make my way for the stairs. It’s fairly dark, except for the faint light of the kitchen island, so I hold the railing and feel for each for each stair. I head into the kitchen and there is light.
I move to the coffee maker, turn it on, reach for a K-Cup, press brew and head to the bathroom. Teeth brushed. Time for coffee and the couch. I take that first, fresh sip of hot coffee. In the quiet of the morning, that first sip is the best. After the first few sips, my eyes and brain are awake. I begin to watch the clock. I begin to wonder, “Will I run this morning? Will I go to Boot Camp?” I continue to savor that first cup of coffee and somewhere between 5:05 and 5:11, I decide Boot Camp it is. I peel myself off the couch, place the now empty coffee cup on the counter. I head up stairs and trade in my PJ’s for leggings and tank.
I’ve embraced the quiet of morning and a cup off coffee, I’m ready today’s gifts.