Sweet, Sweet Sleep
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K, my daughter, was asleep on the sofa in the great room this morning. The semester is ending and the room has become her base of operations for all things called university. The smaller front bedroom is her study, but the great room's 10-foot ceiling provides a feeling of openness and better "studierability" (AKA access to the kitchen). It's why I like reading in there, too. grin.
After making sure she was comfortable, I turned on the coffee maker and went outside to view the stars. It was a new moon, but the stars were shrouded in clouds, so I went back inside to ready the house for a new day.
Going from room to room, I opened plantation shutters and turned on/off lights. I took out the garbage and brought in the newspapers. I started a load of laundry, washed the dishes in the sink and loaded the dishwasher for a 9:00 am washing. Then, I prepared my bathroom for my 30-minute routine of shower, shave and get-the-heck-dressed.
The smell of fresh-brewed morning coffee eventually found me in my bedroom as I checked the status on an overnight database job. Yes, it ran! I was tickled pink as I poured a cup of coffee and added some sugar to it. As I looked into the fridge for some milk, I remembered what I was supposed to get on my way home from Cathy's house last night.
I substituted extra sugar for the missing milk and it made the ungodly tincture somewhat potable. Actually, it was horrible, but I needed something to wake me up this morning. Leaning back in my Barcolounger, I sipped the bitter nectar as I alternated between the WSJ and a French comedy on the IFC movie channel.
Soon enough, it was time for me to get ready for work. I looked over at K. She was still asleep on the sofa, dead to the world and ready for a new day when she awakened.
I had one more thing to do. I left her a note on the kitchen counter. It read:
"K, Have a Great Day! love, Dad"
My Mom would leave me similar notes on the kitchen table when I was a college commuter. She would write them before leaving for the early morning shift at McDonald's. They were my Mom's way of giving me a hug, even when she wasn't there.
She told me once, "Honey, I can't help you with your schoolwork, but I can always let you know that I'm thinkin' about you". Then she gave me hug and whispered, "You'll make it, Mike. I know that in my heart."
Those little slips of paper were found throughout my textbooks. I knew what they meant to me and how important they were. I'd look at them and know that someone back home loved me and was thinkin' about me.
And that made life just a little bit easier.
---
K, my daughter, was asleep on the sofa in the great room this morning. The semester is ending and the room has become her base of operations for all things called university. The smaller front bedroom is her study, but the great room's 10-foot ceiling provides a feeling of openness and better "studierability" (AKA access to the kitchen). It's why I like reading in there, too. grin.
After making sure she was comfortable, I turned on the coffee maker and went outside to view the stars. It was a new moon, but the stars were shrouded in clouds, so I went back inside to ready the house for a new day.
Going from room to room, I opened plantation shutters and turned on/off lights. I took out the garbage and brought in the newspapers. I started a load of laundry, washed the dishes in the sink and loaded the dishwasher for a 9:00 am washing. Then, I prepared my bathroom for my 30-minute routine of shower, shave and get-the-heck-dressed.
The smell of fresh-brewed morning coffee eventually found me in my bedroom as I checked the status on an overnight database job. Yes, it ran! I was tickled pink as I poured a cup of coffee and added some sugar to it. As I looked into the fridge for some milk, I remembered what I was supposed to get on my way home from Cathy's house last night.
I substituted extra sugar for the missing milk and it made the ungodly tincture somewhat potable. Actually, it was horrible, but I needed something to wake me up this morning. Leaning back in my Barcolounger, I sipped the bitter nectar as I alternated between the WSJ and a French comedy on the IFC movie channel.
Soon enough, it was time for me to get ready for work. I looked over at K. She was still asleep on the sofa, dead to the world and ready for a new day when she awakened.
I had one more thing to do. I left her a note on the kitchen counter. It read:
"K, Have a Great Day! love, Dad"
My Mom would leave me similar notes on the kitchen table when I was a college commuter. She would write them before leaving for the early morning shift at McDonald's. They were my Mom's way of giving me a hug, even when she wasn't there.
She told me once, "Honey, I can't help you with your schoolwork, but I can always let you know that I'm thinkin' about you". Then she gave me hug and whispered, "You'll make it, Mike. I know that in my heart."
Those little slips of paper were found throughout my textbooks. I knew what they meant to me and how important they were. I'd look at them and know that someone back home loved me and was thinkin' about me.
And that made life just a little bit easier.
---
posted by Mike Chandler | 10:23 PM
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