I’m Thankful For… Mornings

I’m Thankful For… Mornings

Lost in the deep, vast void of sleep, I feel him move. Without opening my eyes, I unfold and stretch. The fog that envelops me begins to loosen and lift. I become aware. It’s morning. In a few minutes the radio will kick on and one of Beethoven’s symphonies will fill the air. I smile, content, safe and warm, for I am in love and happy. Treasured by a wonderful man.

Without opening my eyes, I know the sun has peeked above the horizon, and begun its morning walk across our bedroom floor. I lay there, basking in the warmth and comfort of our bed, waiting, knowing what will come.

Within minutes, David reaches out. His arm strong and muscled. He grabs me around the waist and pulls me across the short divide, tucking me in beside him. Body to body we are pressed together, spooning. We drift back to sleep.

Sometime later, I feel the light scratch of his whiskers, followed by the soft press of his lips upon my shoulder. He kisses me and whispers, “Morning Baby,” in a voice that’s deep and low.

I melt. Loving those words, having heard them every morning for the past nine years.

“Morning.” I reply and nuzzle in tighter.

Another day begins.

And, I am thankful.

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