A Good Morning

I wrote this Sunday morning but didn’t get around to typing and posting it until today.

I just had the best wake-up ever.

Normally, this is how my mornings go: I begin to surface into consciousness about half an hour after the alarm radio has started playing.  As I continue to flounder into some semblance of wakefulness I become aware that Ben has already vacated the bed.  I can usually hear him preparing breakfast for himself downstairs.  Frig, I think.  I am such a lazy wife.  Actually, it would be more accurate to say that I feel these thoughts: at this point, words are still too concrete for my damp, sleep-logged mind.   I only feel.

As my brain starts to drain of its drowsiness, my thoughts begin to drift towards the weird dreams I’ve just had – about being lifted in a car by a tornado or getting a Western-style shirt in the mail.  Then I start to remember that I am awake, and that this is a new day, and I have to get up.  I curl up under the covers into fetal position and groan.   I think about how my life is a grand garbage dump.  I wonder pessimistically how ugly I look this morning –worse than yesterday?  I whimper pathetically as I think about the work that has to be done for my research job.  I roll over and bury my face deeper into the blanket as I realize I will never make anything of myself, because I am lazy and lack talent, inspiration, and originality.  I grudgingly start to roll towards the edge of the bed in preparation to get up and out.  I rest my heavy body for a few minutes.  I roll a little closer to the edge of the bed.  I rest a few more minutes.  Sometimes I fall asleep at this point and then have to repeat the whole thing over again, dreams and all.  Sometimes Ben calls me from downstairs because he has a question about his lunch.  Eventually, with a mighty groan, I then heave myself out of bed, miserable to the core; I bulldoze the heavy comforter off my body with my arms, and weakly begin to walk through the chilly, raw air of my bedroom to the stairway.  There, I say resentfully to the Universe.  I’m up.

But this morning was different.  My eyes were open before I realized I was awake, and I found I was in the middle of enjoying a jubilant piece of music.  My heart pulsed cheerfully in time with the rhythm of the song.  It was Simon and Garfunkel’s Cecilia, but not by Simon and Garfunkel.  It was better.  Everything had been perfected in this joyful rendition.  The instruments were all fine-tuned and the voices sang in blissfully perfect harmony.  My mind skipped along with the melody and I smiled.  My face was already towards Ben, and I found myself examining his peaceful, handsome face.  So still and sweet.  I slipped my hand under the covers toward his arm and just grazed it with my fingers.  His eyes opened, and I gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up above the comforter.  He must have understood that I was referring to the song because he gave me a knowing smile before closing his eyes again.  I sighed happily.

♪♫Cecelia, you’re breaking my heart; you’re shaking my confidence daily . . . ♪♫

I was so completely happy.  It was the Sabbath.  I was lying in a warm bed with my beloved, who smiled at me.  One of the greatest songs ever written had just been made perfect and was dancing in the air around us.  Without opening his eyes, Ben wrapped a warm arm around me and pulled me toward his glowing body.  I smiled and kissed both his warm fragrant cheeks profusely, like moms do with their babies.  He breathed out a laugh and looked up at me.  I contentedly laid my head down on his pillow next to him, and stared into his open gray eyes, and just loved life.

There is nothing like waking up next to the man (or presumably the woman) you love.  I am so grateful that when I blink open my eyes at the crack of dawn, I look directly into the eyes of my beloved.  I breathe in deeply and think that this must be the way God meant for life to be.

When I fall asleep, he’s there with me, and when I wake up, he’s still there.  It feels sometimes as though eternity slips in between those unconscious hours and engulfs us, so that we are somehow together for an eternity every single night.

In these moments I forget that I have done almost nothing with my life, and that things don’t look too much better for my future.  I forget that I have bad skin and that I am a slow worker and that my life feels directionless.  In these moments, I realize that life is not about accomplishments but about relationships, and that I’ve been blessed with one of the best ones imaginable.