Tag Archives: Morning

Germany

Lazy Morning

2 Comments

The French press isn’t yet empty so we sit and linger a while longer, doing one thing at a time. Coffee first and then onto other things for the day. Warm rolls and butter and jam and cheese on weekend mornings, just because we can, and I find that my body has adjusted to eating that way; I find myself looking forward to it.

It’s rather different from how I was through many years of being on my own, different from the habits formed back when I used to go running, preferably in the mornings when I could. Back then, and since then, mornings were a time to do as much as possible so that the rest of the day was free for everything else. The best light comes through the windows in the morning, the air is fresh, and there’s a pregnant expectation of what the day might bring. I used to set an alarm on weekend mornings to greet all of that, but lately I’ve found that I don’t sleep in anymore. Lingering over breakfast on a weekend morning is a natural part of the day.

Years ago, we used to visit our favourite diner on a Saturday or Sunday, placing our orders of coffee, omelettes, and potatoes wherever we decided the coffee was best or the potatoes crispiest or the service fastest. We were in and out, often after waiting in the obligatory line (always a good sign), having eaten enough to tide us over until dinner. We sought out diners in different parts of town and compared them to each other, once driving all the way across town to wait in a line and be told that we could request modifications to the menu (I wanted two eggs, like in my go-to diner, instead of the standard three), but the kitchen staff probably wouldn’t listen. We loved every moment of that experience.

It’s a different time, a different pace, and a different partnership now.

Almost a year ago I took you to a diner, an old favourite, almost unchanged except for the prices. Cash payments only in a country that runs on credit, coffee as ever nostalgic and a little burnt (a taste I miss until I have it again, and then I stop myself after three refills), plentiful plates of combinations that matched what you’ve seen on television. And then another diner and another where, finally, “What can I get you, sweetheart?” and I grinned at the look on your face. Sometimes real life is just like the movies.

The bakery bag of tomorrow’s rolls is in the oven. And after we’ve finished our coffee, it’ll be time to live in the day.

On My Mind

Recollections of a Dream Upon Waking

Leave a comment

For the last several nights, I’ve woken in the early hours of the morning, shortly before dawn, from the same dream. I replay the details in my mind while I lie in bed, waiting for my breathing to slow down and the tightness in my chest to subside. The afterimages are vivid for a very brief time and I’m left with my hands clenched tightly and an ache in my heart, but I fall back asleep for a few fitful minutes, trying desperately to get away from that dream. And then when I wake again, I have no memory of the details.

This morning, I remember bits and pieces. I remember looking for something I just couldn’t find and I am not one to lose things. In my dream, I cry out in frustration to a friend but there’s no one there. No one and nothing. It’s gone, whatever it was. But this was the second part of the dream. This was the part that woke me in the morning after I’d woken before dawn from something I can’t remember. It left me with a sense of loneliness; loneliness and loss. Both faded when I opened my eyes and saw the room filled with daylight.

As I scribble this on a notepad that I keep in my night table drawer, the details come back slowly. There were three people in the first dream, the same three people I’ve dreamt about for several nights in a row. Loss makes more sense now. They’re there, I know they are, but they’re out of my reach. Lost. Why those three? That I don’t know. Why them, over and over?

I’d like to go back to a time when it wasn’t so common for me to feel fear subside when I open my eyes in the morning, but I don’t even know when that would have been. Two years ago? Three? Longer? I miss you, I guess, is the moral of the story. Several “I miss yous,” to be precise. You’re there, but not for me, not like you were some time ago but I don’t even know when. Things changed. I can’t quite reach you anymore. (Why those three?)

Navigating this life when I’m alone frightens me but that mostly comes up at night, in the dark, when my walls are down, distractions put away, and it’s plainly obvious that alone is exactly what I am. But I’ve had these dreams the last several nights in a row, dreams that have left me with those feelings. Maybe the alone-ness, which isn’t quite the same as being lonely, is bothering me more than I thought.

But it’s morning now and the room is bright. The stiffness in my hands, nails digging into my palms when I wake, has subsided; I can see it in my handwriting on this notepad. My breathing is calm and eyes are wide open, gazing around the room in recognition instead of squeezed shut, unwilling to admit that whatever it was is lost, hoping to sink back into the dream and find it.

Until tomorrow, then.

Maybe I’ll find it this time. Whatever I’m looking for.

New York

Morning in Manhattan

Leave a comment

I’ve written before about being a morning person. Now that I’m living downtown in Manhattan and need to get about 80 blocks uptown every morning to meet my carpool, morning has taken on a whole new meaning. Today was particularly early because, as the only member of a four-person carpool who doesn’t own a vehicle, I provide coffee or pastries once a week. Fair trade, right? Fuel comes in different forms! Last night was Back to School Night, so our coffee is especially important this morning.

But early mornings are alright, really. Today the sky over the East River looked like this:

img_0139

Have a great day!