I have recently started to become more of a morning person. No, I’m not talking about that annoying perky bright eyed overly chirpy annoying type that when they open their mouths in the morning before your first sip of coffee you in vision chicken choking them. I speak of the quiet type of morning person. The slow to wake type, the let me have a couple sips and savor that warming of my chest that the first sip brings. I will talk but let the conversation be easy and calm.
Some of my favorite mornings are the ones where I am up super early before my family and I can make a fresh pot of coffee and then find a comfy chair to sit in and listen to my music on headphones and zone out. To quietly muse and ponder to allow myself to think but not stay on anyone thing for too long the art of learning to not overthink. It was in one of these mornings of pondering that it hit me.
I have always wondered if I picked up any of my dad’s mannerisms. You see, my Dad was not my biological father so knowing that I picked something up from him would be something awesome. This morning I was thinking about my dad and how most of my favorite memories of him are of him sitting in our kitchen at the table drinking his morning coffee, smoking a cigarette, and either leaning forward on his knees thinking about the coming day or leaning back looking out the back window pondering life.
I never understood why he would get up so damn early, even on the weekends most of the time dad was up early, during the week he was always up at what to a teenager seems like ungodly hours. My dad was a carpenter and he owned his own construction company so he was up and going early my entire life. I never understood why he got up so early…. Until now.
Now I get it, in the last year I have slowly been waking up earlier and earlier in the mornings to be up before anyone else. I enjoy my mornings where I can sit in the quiet stillness and ponder life or thinking about the coming day. It gives me time to sort things in my head. I find that it’s making me a calmer person and a happier one. I also enjoy the mornings where I get to share them with good company that is like minded those rare mornings are breaths of fresh air n my constant routine.
Then the moment of pure pondering joy hits, that split second when all your musings give you a little incitement to the inner truth of you. I do have one of my dad’s habits it’s taken me almost ten years to see it and really truly appreciate it. It’s my morning routine. The early mornings, with my coffee, music playing on my headphones while contemplating the randomness that passes through my mind. That moment of reflection that all along these last few years when I have been missing him the most, he has been right here by my side as I have been giving thought to all the things in my life and working through them.
Little did I know that I have not been alone at all, my dad joins me for coffee every morning, whether I know it or not. His spirit carries on within me every morning when I take that first sip of coffee, in the quiet moments of life’s musings, and every time I avoid talking to my teenage daughter in the morning to avoid her snapping at, (Just like my dad did with me unless I spoke first). My dad smiled all the time just like I do, my dad was a constant smart ass…yep I can be to. But of all the things I picked up from him This one makes me the happiest, because I feel the closest to my dad for the first time since his passing ten years ago.