Sunday Morn’

I was the first to awake today. Even Jack was still nestled into his bedding, nose to tail. He stretched long as he rose , then quick pranced over to greet me as if trying to keep his paws from the chill of the cold tiles. I could hear the tap of his nails dancing on the hard floor. He paused briefly at my feet expectantly until he received his requisite rubs, then headed to the door for his morning routine. It wasn’t long before he was tucked back into his cozy bed.

As I write this, I’m still the only one up with the new day’s sun. It’s low on the horizon — peaking through the dense leaves of our neighbors tree. It’s warmth slowly urging away the night’s cold. My coffee steams gently adding its warmth to the morning scene and working its magic — encouraging me to find my words.

We are a house in mourning. This the second week of five dedicated to remembrance. We will soon gather around the table and begin to fold gilded paper into silver ingots to prepare for the next offering. It’s a family affair. Like a sad version of when the family all gathers around to make dumplings. But there is less family here now to share in the work. Less family to join in on the conversation.

The sun has now risen above the tree. It’s light shining upon me. I feel its warmth. I miss when mama used to sit across from me on these mornings and we would chat. Me in a mixture of broken Mandarin and Shanghainese that she seemed to somehow always understand. She spoke simply so I could follow easily. She was always so patient with me. Such a lovely soul. A lovely, lovely soul.

The family has started to arise. Jack now at my feet in a spot of sunlight. It’s time to get on with our day.

Be well,

Montyds

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