Mornings...

I love the mornings.

I haven't always.

Morning used to be my least favorite part of the day. 

Retirement made the difference.

And remarriage.

 

You see, I'm a slow starter.

It takes me a while to wake up after I get up.

Before retirement, I didn't have time for a slow start,

I had to hit the ground running.

The same was true when I left my full-time job

to become a full-time caregiver to my Al.

That is what I was thinking about this morning. 

 

At this point eleven years ago,

we were nearing the end.

I didn't really have to rush into the morning anymore.

He was sleeping most of the time,

was not really eating anymore,

and once he'd had his meds and sponge bath,

the house was quiet.

And lonely.

I could take the time to wake slowly,

but it wasn't pleasant,

it was sad.

The same was true after.

 

Eventually, I went back to a full-time job

and mornings were once again a rush-job.

But even though I still wakened slowly,

the rush was better than the slow, quiet wake-up 

of my empty house.

 

But this morning,

and all my mornings now,

is different.

This morning, I woke just before dawn,

I stretched luxuriously,

rolled over and looked at my sleeping husband,

smiled and touched his beautiful face,

rolled out from under the covers,

and the dog and I snuck quietly out of our room.

 

I and my coffee sat in my rocking chair for a bit,

then moved to my cozy easy chair where I can see

all the Christmas trees in this part of the house,

our sweet little Christmas village,

and out the window to our waking neighborhood.

I read and sipped my coffee.

I thought of my sleeping husband.

And I compared, which I don't often do.

 

I thought of those mornings 11 years ago

when I sat near a sleeping husband,

watching intently.

I didn't relax.

I didn't enjoy.

I listened for the oxygen tank.

I watched for the rising and lowering of my beloved's chest as he breathed.

 

Now I sit quietly, joyously anticipating the wakening of my beloved.

I read.

I ponder.

I pet the dog, the cats.

I slowly sip my coffee.

I watch the neighborhood -

    the leaves scuttling across the yards,

        the kitties exploring,

            the people driving past on their way to work or school.

I revel in my quiet, slow awakening.

I find myself wondering why I am so blessed.

I do not have an answer.

I am undeserving.

I am not a "better person" than many who are not so blessed.

I am not a "holier" person - believe this if you believe nothing else!

I am not a wiser person.

It is not that I have given my heart to Jesus -

    though I have - 

many others have and do not have my earthly blessings.

And many haven't and have many more "worldly" blessings than I.

No, I live in the same fallen world as the rest of you.

I fall prey to the tricks of satan from time to time

just like everyone else.

Still I am greatly blessed and highly favored among women.

I do not know why.

I do know this.

I AM greatly blessed and highly favored among women!

As I approach the new year,

my 12th of widowhood,

my 9th of remarriage,

I cannot help but look at both my husbands

and praise God!