Monday, February 1, 2010

RITUALS OF THE DAY



Coming out of R.E.M., my waking mind is racing before I open my eyes for the day. It’s Thursday…..and thank you for this day and for the life I have today. I crack my eyes open enough to see the clock. It says 4:58 a.m., and I close my eyes once more to see if there is any sleep left. Guess not. Better get up. Roy has gotten up about an hour before me. He goes to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and out to the patio for a smoke, with Hank following to do his “biddness” far out into the dark yard. After his smoke, he and the dog go upstairs to read the news on his computer until he hears me stir. He goes out to get the newspaper, with Hank following to make sure he gets his morning reward for following Roy out to get the paper.

I find my slippers and plod noiselessly into the kitchen. I have always had a reverence for the early mornings. The coffee is made, so I empty the hot water out of the big old Stanley thermos and pour most of the pot into the already hot thermos, and then pour the rest of the pot into the waiting coffee cup on the counter. I make another half pot of coffee, and pad my way quietly back into the bedroom with the old thermos and my hot cup of coffee. I turn on the news to watch until the Royster and Hank bring the newspaper in.

We divide up the paper in sections to share, with the news on the television droning in the background. Hank nervously paces from one side of the bed to the other, asking and awaiting permission to come aboard. He is 15 years old and has lost his hearing, so with simple hand motions, we invite him up to join us, and he hops up onto the bed. He’s not quite as agile and graceful as he once was, so it isn’t as easy for him as it used to be.

We listen to the news on the television while skimming through the newspaper to find things we are most accustomed to reading. I start my crossword puzzle, an exercise I’ve done faithfully for the past 30 + years. We discuss plans and possibilities for the day; a trip to the bank, a doctor’s appointment, his mom and/or other planned projects for the day. Soon it’s time for Roy to get ready to go to the office. He wishes he could retire, but I know he’s grateful for the work. He had planned to retire a long time ago, but it just didn’t happen that way. At least he’s doing something he likes to do.

The Royster finishes his shower,dresses and makes his way to the coffee pot for a short roadie. It's not a long drive to the office. Hank and I see him off, and are left with the house to ourselves.

I go into the kitchen and turn on my computer and fix some breakfast for me, and get Hank’s old dog medicine ready to give him with his breakfast. In warmer weather we would sit on the deck quietly watching the world wake up; mourning doves waking, and squirrels fussing and rustling in the highway of tree limbs overhead. But it’s much too cold and wet this morning. So, I make the oatmeal, medicate and feed the dog and carry my breakfast back to finish watching the news and my crossword puzzle. Our day has begun. Again, Thank you for this day and the life I have been given.

The day moves as planned, going to the bank, and running other odd errands until lunch time. By then it’s time to start one of many projects that need doing; not to mention the daily routine upkeep of the house. Today, I worked on a problem closet in the big guest room. Hank got exhausted watching, and laid down for a nap.

Before I am aware of the time its 3:00 o’clock. I know its 3:00 o’clock because Hank told me so. He starts herding me to the stairs. This can only mean that he wants me to open the bedroom blinds so that he can watch for the big white thing that comes here carrying his litter mate. I open the blinds, and he watches and waits. He sits there for another 30 minutes before wanting to play our “ritual game” of “Try to get this squeaky toy from me.” Then it’s back to the window to watch and wait.

Finally he’s doing the doggie dance of joy and barking distinctly ; “He’s home! He’s home!” This is when he races to the back door to greet the Royster. He herds both of us to the bedroom where he makes it impossible to be heard over his barks of joy and his playful nudging. The Royster tries to read the mail through all of this. If one of us leaves the room for anything, Hank is right there to herd us back into one room again.

Dinner as usual on trays in front of the TV; feed and medicate Hank, shower, get the coffee pot loaded and read a bit. Set the timer on the TV and lights out. I find myself floating away into the abyss of sleep that readies me for another chance for another day. My mind still chanting, Thank you for the day, and the life I have today.

And, then, before I am aware, Coming out of R.E.M., my waking mind is racing before I open my eyes for the day. It’s Friday … and thank you for this day and for the life I have today. I crack my eyes open enough to see the clock………