Friday, April 23, 2010
Each morning Hugh has gotten up when he can’t keep the sun out of his eyes any more. Overnight the house looses about a degree of heat each hour and there’s no thermostat to kick in the wood stove so Hugh builds a fire to warm the house back up. This morning it’s a little warmer than yesterday morn, 42 degrees. “Would you like something hot, Love?” He puts a kettle on the gas stove for tea for me and Ovaltine for him. I snuggle under the covers, waking up slowly, enjoying watching him move about the house and listening to the water and birds outside.
When it’s ready he brings it over for me. We talk about the day to come as he then prepares breakfast; generally hot cereal or eggs. He’s a good cook who doesn’t work from recipes and he likes to make biscuits from scratch – a little of this and a handful of that…
My hair is a mess from going to bed with it wet from my bath the night before. I was worried that I’d get chilled but the house is a nice 70 – 74 degrees when we crawl in and my hair dries quickly. But in the morning it’s a different story. So I have to wet it down all over again to make myself presentable before joining him at the table for breakfast.
“Gee look at that, it’s 8:15, gotta go!”
Yesterday morning I walked him to the boat and kissed him good-bye. He seemed to really like that. Yes, when he had the boat pointed where he wanted to go, he turned and waved a second time.
This morning I slipped my sandals on to walk with him to the dock again. “Coming with me to the boat?” He asked pleasantly surprised that I would walk with him again.
He reached to hold my hand as we walked down the path. To myself I thought, well I don’t have a hot morning shower to wake me anymore. This is actually much nicer – brisk fresh air, sun streaming through the trees, birds signing and gulls crying out to each other. I squeezed his hand, thanking him for taking mine. Mmmmm.
“Be safe” I call as he backs out of the boat slip.
I watch him motor into the sun, headed for the shore where his truck is parked on Drummond. He looks back. Is he looking at me or enjoying the scenery? I see a small wave “I love you.”
I wave back, “I love you, too.”
I walk back to the house smelling the birch log burning in the stove and start to plan my day — making soup from the beans leftover from dinner, calling about less expensive internet options, watching the wind on the lake, wondering if it will warm enough to sit on the porch and write this afternoon, when to do yoga and on and on. My heart is singing with peace and contentment and fullness of love.
Yes, my morning my “hot shower”, the morning “cup of joe” will be my walk with Hugh to the boat.
“Be safe, my Love.”