Morning Time

I awoke this morning in dim light around 7am. I had a small spasm in my leg and the small parrot in the kitchen made occasional noises, but other than that it was peaceful and I lied there watching the fan spin overhead. It was confusing, because I had nowhere to go, no reason to get up, and I sat back without any covers thinking of years going to bed as the sun came up and waking up well into the afternoon with errands to run. It seems strange and distant in the morning light, on the eve of a graduation. It feels strange to think of objects I no longer have and errands that would not make sense to run anymore.

I was tempted, as I sat there, to feel some sort of guilt, because I could be doing something. I could be out meeting someone or walking another dark corner of Seville or practicing Spanish with that bartender who knows my name, or taking in my last few weeks by the river or reading at my coffee shop, or shuffling through today's newspaper or running out the beers from last night's soccer game. Yes, there are lots of things I could do today, but I am going to lay in bed a bit longer and pretend if I have to that doing just what I am doing is a reward after all those tough years. Before too long there will be plenty of early mornings to go around, plenty of things to do, and I will do them all well. By the time I wake up I hope that parrot has shut up.