The Best Part of Waking Up is…

A photo of a cup of coffee.

A way too teenie-weenie cup of coffee

As I descend the staircase before making my morning cup of coffee, I can tell that it isn’t as cold outside this morning, by the absence of frost along the bottom of my front door. This is a good start for me.  I detest the winter, and all of the inconveniences of it – frigid temperatures, excessive clothing, black ice, slush, dirty piles of snow along the edges of the driveway and garage corners, and crunchy, salted sidewalks.  “I do not like it here, or there. I do not like winter, damn Sam-I-am!” While I do appreciate the seasonal nature of life, winter is clearly something I can do without.  Weren’t it for regular exercise, I’d go bananas due to the doldrums of winter.  To this day, I swear by the normalizing ability of exercise, particularly during the winter. It is my Zoloft, my Prozac – another random and seemingly mundane thing about me that I can’t live without – totally useful and critical for my survival.

The house is still quiet, and most of it remains unlit.  Even the sun lies asleep in its place, awaiting the right time to rise and brighten this corner of the Earth.  Thankful for this peaceful, uninterrupted part of the day, I contemplate the upcoming events of the day, and whether my youngest is well enough to resume her normal activities which would in turn allow me to resume mine! :-) I think of the appointments that require rescheduling and those to which I have firm commitments and cannot worm my way out of.

I usually have my morning cup of coffee with my “Darlin’ Darlin’ Baby”, and when I can’t do that, I just don’t seem to rush to the coffeepot as quickly.  Morning coffee with him has become a favorite pastime.  Set against the tranquility of the morning; an unhurried household;  a space and time devoid of running feet, and strikingly absent  of petulant screams and demands, or whimpers from bumps and bruises incurred from running in the house – yet again – I am forced to consider him and him only.

He calls me his ‘fox’.

“You mean like Foxxy Brown Fox?”, I ask.

“No”, he says, “I mean like you’re a fox.  Better than beautiful. Beautiful and more. You’re all that and then some!”  (See Merriam Webster‘s definition Number 5. :0) )

Well damn boy, keep the compliments coming! They’re good for my ego.  Who doesn’t wanna hear that?

I call him my baby, my man, da’ bomb!  Always handling his business, so seemingly effortlessly and without ceasing.  His timeliness and attention to me as a husband and to our children as a dad, pulls me in over and over again.  If there are misses, they’re small.  In the bigger scheme of things, he takes care of the most important things, the ones that if left undone, life would be remarkably different around here.  He acknowledges that I regulate the heartbeat of this household, the mood and temperament of its life, its pulse, and as such, his goal is to keep me happy, and to check in – at coffee time and other times –  when I’m not. He does that and then some!

He is…my friend, my bestie ever!

He is…smart, beautiful, gracious, and humble.

Among other things, he is discerning, trustworthy, and always reliable.  He loves me carefully and recklessly, and seeks to please me regularly and often.  We drink our coffee together to start our day, to connect with each other, to check in, to pray.  Coffee time becomes more than a ritual now.  It becomes a memory, a favorite pastime, an important moment in our day.  No wonder the second cup isn’t as good as the first!

“The best part of waking up” is…drinking coffee with my “he is”, and waking up never felt so good. What’s in your coffee?

Here Comes the Sun!