Upon Awakening

Each morning, I wake, without pause to the sound of my daughter’s voice.  I move through slumber with the sounds of doors opening and closing.  Her small whispers of a voice talking to her stuffed animals asking what they want to eat with their cereal and oatmeal and milk. Then in the same breath, turning the volume up and calling out to tell me her requests for the morning meal.  Can I have cereal and oatmeal and milk and tiramisu? The conversation continues rapid fire and speed unknown to me until my feet hit the floor and I rise up. She giggles as she knows the last one is a joke and a dessert and not even in our refrigerator.  I imagine her setting a place for herself at the table, starved and ready to breakfast but to my amazement this entire chatter has come from her in her bed tucked again under her covers.  And her eyes find mine as her head lifts up off the pillow ready, too, to greet the day with her whole essence and body leaping forward in the next breath, out of bed and on the move.  I begin to pad my way through the kitchen making oatmeal and coffee in tandem, stovetop boiling over.  She is awake, describing all that she sees, remembers from yesterday, envisions for the day, full stream of open consciousness, and “mama I want jam in my oatmeal too!”  Now another voice joins hers.  The family dog stretches and groans and then is speaking in dog language of her desire to be let out and fed and run in the yard or walk up and down paths in the woods.  So we gobble up our nourishment, sip our coffee and water, and gear up for the day!

Morning Oatmeal with Homemade Jam

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