Waking up early

Ok, so it wasn't that early. 7:30am. But Sterling wasn't home last night and the kids are really tired...still sleeping. So I had the house to myself for a while. I approached the front door, thinking I would go get the newspaper when I noticed the computer humming. I must not have turned it off before bed last night. Oops. Then I noticed the window was still open. Double Oops. Then I noticed the faint glow peeking under each layer of the blind. And I remembered...

I remember loving mornings...before kids, that is. When I was in my teen years, I loved morning. Atypical? Yes, but so was I. But now, with four kids running the house, I'm just too tired to wake up any earlier than is absolutely necessary. Call it my anemia, staying-up-too-late-reading, white blood cell mystery or just plain motherhood, or a combination of them all -- I find it very difficult to wake up before 7:30. Sterling always wakes up first and stumbles into the bathroom where he is soon joined by Parker and Camille, who are fascinated with him shaving. (I remember that). Soon enough, Rachel is crying and Sydney is rolling around. But when Sterling is away, for some unknown reason, the kids don't wake up nearly as early.

Anyway, the thing I loved most about mornings back then was being the ONLY ONE up. I was the only one awake in my house who would witness the sun coming up. If they didn't witness it happening, how could they know if the sun came up striped that day or not. What if it came up backwards or oblong or blinking? How could they really know if they never really saw it happen? What actually happens is far more spectacular than that.

The blinds were glowing, trying to hold back something amazing that was happening behind them and a vague sense of the familiar started to tickle forgotton places in my brain. So I peeked, anticipation, renewal of a lost self seemed to be found somewhere in that action. I peeked and found something I hadn't seen in a very long time. Flames of orange, red, yellow and the blendings of those colors, fired out of the mountains, burning the sky until they almost touched my house. When my breath came back, I left my house and entered this brilliant morning just before the sun itself, made its entrance. I knew this was a place I belonged but had not been for a while. But the morning did not care and welcomed me with all her vibrancy.

picture taken from my front porch

Morning's entrance had faded by 8:00 and it was business as usual. The color, private tranquility and vibrant, pure aliveness had faded to grays and blues, shrouded in a haze of pollution and cold weather. The kids were up and, after a hug, kiss and loving validation, turned to Curious George on the TV. Next its breakfast, chores, making ourselves presentable and off to school and errands, hoping we have enough candy for trick-or-treaters tonight.

front porch