The beauty of being a morning person
For as long as I can remember I’ve been a morning person. As a young girl I was often the first one up on a weekend. I never had to be called twice. My father (also a morning person) and I, often enjoyed time together in the early mornings. Sometimes I’d get up, eat whatever he was fixing for breakfast and then go back to bed for an hour or so. All through high school and into my twenties I worked the breakfast shift at the Holiday Inn near my home. I’d arrive at 5am graduating from bussing to waitress, hostess and cashier. When my friends were just getting out of bed I’d already have put in a good 8 hours.
When I worked as the Attendance Secretary of the same high school I graduated from I’d arrive by 6am, usually at the same time as the Custodians. I loved it. I needed that time to settle in, have a nice cuppa tea and get myself grounded before I was inundated with students and non-stop ringing phones. That was a precious hour that I could spend visiting with other early birds, talking recipes, gardening or sharing the highs and lows of life in general. Some of those folks have left this world, like my buddy Dan, and my dear friend Dave. I’m forever thankful that we had those early mornings together. A few of them still call or text in the early mornings, knowing I’ll be awake. I love that.
Old habits die hard and I still tend to wake up around 4 am most mornings. Sometimes I can put my music on low and drift back to sleep. Sometimes, the Taskmaster, pictured above, insists that I get out of bed. We sit together in the living room, she on her flower cat tree and me in my comfy recliner. There is no longer a frantic need to get dressed or pack a lunch so mornings are ours alone. When the weather is nice I sometimes will sit with her in her office on the back patio or, like this morning, I’ll open the window above my office desk in the dining room and we will enjoy the sunrise and singing birds. Just like my work buddies, I am thankful for her company. Somedays we sit in the still silence, somedays she seems to have an awful lot to say.
As I’ve aged I notice a strange phenomenon. The once night people of my family, the ones that would prefer to stay up late and sleep in, are changing. Our son and daughter in law have a baby now. Their days of leisurely mornings are over. Most days this house is up and moving by 7 am even on the weekend. I like it. My sister, who gave my dad untold glee trying to get her up of the mornings has also become somewhat of an early riser. I suppose this happens as people age. Years of waking at the same time five days a week becomes ingrained. I don’t think they take it to the 4 am extreme but that’s ok too. Kitten and I like our quiet time. We like to work our NY Times puzzles and just sit back and listen to what the birds have to say now that the windows are open.
How about you?