I get up first.
Pretty much every day.
I like mornings.
This morning I stepped by the fan that was attempting to circulate cool air into the bedrooms and headed towards my desk. I noticed then a little girl solidly asleep on the couch, covered in a light blanket, her face lit by the brightness of the morning. She looked as if she was safe and at peace as she slept.
Dancing beside me was a dog, a big one, waiting on her morning treat. She loves to get up with me and she rushes to my desk where she sits and waits for me to arrive. Her eyes flick up to the treats up on the top shelf, she wants me to know that she knows they are there, she wants me to remember the morning routine. I toss 4 into the air and she deftly catches all of them. Ritual complete she slips away to lie on my side of the bed.
I go through emails and check on a few things that I need to keep up on and then decide to go back to bed to read. I walk by a bedroom door that had been pushed opened by the dog on her rounds on her way back to bed. I see another girl, slightly older, sleeping on her back with a slight smile playing about her face. I wave, she doesn’t wave back. She’s dreaming of something that makes her happy, that enriches my morning.
Coming back into my bedroom to read I find the dog fully stretched out in my place. Joe is on his side of the bed still soundly asleep. I get the dog to move and pick up my book to read.
And people thought my life would be lonely as a gay man.
And people thought my life was over when I became disabled.
Life brings gifts to all of us.
Even those thought undeserving.
The quiet happiness of a Saturday morning.
Takes all shapes.