Morning.
Crisp and clear.
Hughes of yellow, orange, and purple.
Emerging from the warmth and comfort of bed.
Stretch and slide feet into soft, fuzzy slippers.
The kettle is on the stove, and the dogs are munching on their food.
Pjs. Carhartt jacket. Boots. Gloves. Time to feed the horses.
Horses whinny. Coyotes howl and yip. Dogs bark and growl. Rooster crows. Birds sing.
The moon fades into the morning light. The sun hides behind the mountain peaks.
A new dawn. An old, yet new routine.
Eggs sizzle in the pan. Coffee brews in the french press.
Today, my husband heads back to work after his surgery. It’s been nice having him home each day for the past month, but it’s time for him to, once again, begin full days of work. He still sports his sling and needs help with regular tasks. Fatigue is his ever constant companion.
For now, I’ll help him with his morning routine as I continue my own. Making breakfast. Packing a lunch. Helping him get ready for work. Seeing him off. I’ll miss having him around during the day.
I’m glad your husband is healed enough to go to work. I’m sure you will miss him. My dad just returned home after a 19 day hospital and skilled nursing stay. I’m going back to work tomorrow too, and it will be weird.