Morning Person

Good morning, dear readers, and Happy Feast of Our Lady of the Rosary!

I am very much a morning person.  

I love to get up as early as possible, while it's still dark out even, so I can spend some time all by myself in a quiet house. (An introvert's dream, right?)  I’ve always been this way, even back when I was in high school. There was none of that flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, waiting til the last minute to get up and dressed and out the door just-in-the nick-of-time business for me, no siree bob. I would set my alarm for the crack of dawn and be out of the shower before my siblings had even awakened.  Even then, I loved a slow, peaceful beginning to my day.  (When our five boys were growing up, this sort of morning was usually not an option for Mom--obviously!   And I adjusted to early morning chaos.  But in these empty-nesting years, I am soaking up these daily wee hours of peace and tranquility to the fullest!)

I love to sit in this spot in our VA living room after I get up and prepare my first cup of coffee.

The floral couch (bought in 1994, when our youngest son was only a year old!) is dated and would never meet the current HGTV-driven standards for style.  But it's so comfortable; and it has been a part of our household for so long that it feels like an old friend.  It will have to fall apart completely before I'll let it go, and that goes for its matching loveseat, too.

Aside from the cozy couch, there are other elements here that spark joy for me (as the saying goes). Hanging on the wall behind the couch are all the canvas portraits of our grandchildren at age one (22 of the 23 are represented as of now, and #23 will go up to join the rest at the end of January when she celebrates her first birthday).  On the other nearby wall is a glorious plaster Marian wall hanging that I found in a giveaway pile at the back of our parish church in NH many years ago and lovingly restored with some glossy white paint.  Hanging from Mary's hands are a couple of Rosaries (we call our living room the "Rosary Room," after all!)--and one of them is a beloved souvenir from our trip to Rome in 2019.  The beautiful plate below Mary, with one of Raphael's famous angels on it, is also from Rome.  It's a gift that our second-oldest son brought back for me when he took a trip there with his Dad and younger brother back in 2008. This sweet little corner of my world is filled with reminders of faith and family, and it’s a perfect morning retreat.

I sit here with my coffee, reading or thinking, and praying, but in a way that is more like a friendly conversation with God.  My prayer life has gotten a little more organized recently, however, since I've downloaded the Hallow app on my phone, and I usually listen to that now as I sit in the Rosary Room. These meditative mornings make me acutely aware of how blessed and happy and filled with love my life has been, how little I've been challenged with adversity or illness.  I am so humbly grateful for all I’ve been given, and not a morning goes by that I don't ponder that, and all of life's mysteries, as I sit on my floral couch.

My husband and I don't do much talking right away after we get up, even though we talk SO much throughout the day, about anything and everything.  He's not a coffee drinker, although he tried to become one several times, painfully and without success (we think he might even be allergic to coffee!), so that we could enjoy it together.  (How cute is that?) I on the other hand, love the taste of coffee, the aroma, and even just the routine itself of fixing it; mornings don't feel right without it.  But it's not that I'm too grumpy to talk before I've had my coffee.  It's more that I just crave silence first thing in the morning.  My guy is not that different, actually.  He has his own morning routines, too.  He has always been so much more disciplined than I am about prayers and devotions, and he spends his waking-up time totally directed toward God and the Blessed Mother. (I actually got him a beautiful padded kneeler from Etsy for his last birthday, because he spends so much time at our bedside, on his knees.)  I'm sure the reason we Pearls have been so blessed is because of Him and his deep, tireless, and unwavering  love for the Faith, which he's taught our sons by word and example all their lives.  I am working to become more like him (but I've got miles to go yet).

Anyway, I'm definitely a morning person.  Even when I've stayed up too late the night before, I have no desire to sleep in the next day.  If I'm blogging or writing, cleaning or sewing, or trying to accomplish some other household task, like organizing a closet, I'm at my most productive in the morning.  Physically and mentally, those early hours of the day are when my energy is at its peak.  But I also love the late-night hours...when it's quiet, dark, and peaceful.  (Do you notice a pattern here?)  It's during those hours in between early morning and late nighttime that I sometimes lose my mojo.  If I keep moving all day, I'm fine and can get a lot accomplished; but if I sit down in a comfy spot in the afternoon or early evening, to read or watch TV, chances are pretty good that I'm going to doze off.  (I tell my husband that I'm like a shark: I've got to keep moving or I'll die.  Or is that an old wives' tale about sharks?)

In the years since he retired, my husband and I have been attending daily Mass together, which is at 8:30 a.m. at our parish here in VA.  It's a routine I've come to cherish, but it's harder for me than for him, more of a sacrifice (how dramatic that sounds!  And now you know just how weak I am!).  It's not the early hour that's the problem, because by the time we leave for church I've been up for at least two hours already; it's that I've always loved puttering around my house at that time of day.  I'm such a homebody, it's ridiculous.   I often wish that the Mass time was a bit later.  But it's been good for me, and for my faith life, to be pulled away from my home each morning to visit the Lord in His. I think God is nudging me to think less of myself and more of Him.  And as time goes on, it keeps getting easier and easier to walk out our door at 8:00 a.m.

It's so interesting to me how different we all are, and what makes people tick.  I have a darling daughter-in-law, a mother of triplets-plus-one, who thinks sleeping in is the ultimate luxury--til noon or after, even, if she can ever pull it off; but I just can't do that, unless I'm actually sick.  What about you?  Are you a morning person?   A night owl?  Both, or neither?  Do tell.