Well the time changed but my body did not. I was hoping to sleep in a little today but my body said, “No! It’s time to get up!” and there I was, awake before 6am. At first I tried to deny that I was awake and slip back into sleep but after a while I realized that was futile and so I got up to begin my day. (Slowly) I took Jessy out to relieve herself, then cue the coffee.

There’s something about being awake early before the rest of the world rises that is magical. There is a calming stillness in the air, one that we can’t quite seem to find during the days. It is quiet, but it’s more than that. Activity is at a minimum, the air is cooler, and the world around us feels like it is resting to prepare for whatever this day will bring.

My dad was always an early riser. Every morning would find him either in the kitchen, or else sitting outside drinking his coffee and smoking in the quiet. On Sunday mornings, he often could be found in the kitchen cooking something for breakfast or baking something sweet to go with his coffee. There would be old time gospel music on the radio coming from a local station playing the old time gospel hour. He would be singing along, tapping his foot, and working around the kitchen. This is one of the few memories I have of my dad ever being calm, at peace, and happy. He was a very complicated person. I believe he felt things on a deeper level and he sometimes let that drag him down. When he was up early in the kitchen on a Sunday morning though, it was as if his clouds had lifted and he could relax for just a moment. He was what some would call a ‘nervous’ person; he could never sit still for very long and he was a smoker, it seemed the only thing that could calm him for a bit.

I remember when I’d wake up early and join him in the kitchen, it was our time to talk, to listen to the gospel songs on the radio together, and to just be together. It’s a happy memory because that’s when he was happy. I didn’t understand his anxiety as a child, I only knew that in those times it was nice to be around him because he seemed truly content. Since my mom and my brother tended to sleep a little later, it was our time to hang out without the cloud of his anxiousness hanging over us. He was the best version of himself at those moments. Sometimes we’d sit outside on the porch together, and when I was older we’d drink coffee and talk about life. Eventually my mom would wake and join us and I was lucky to be able to sit and talk with my parents in those times. I will always treasure that.

These days, I like to wake up a little early on weekend mornings, make coffee, and go sit outside on my patio with my dog. We sit in silence and watch the woods behind my home. We see squirrels jumping from tree to tree, we see birds flying through the trees, we hear animals that we can’t see in the woods moving around. The air is cool, the coffee is warm, and it is a time of relaxation and thought. I feel my dad’s peace wash over me and I understand how he must have felt on those early mornings. In our world of busyness, it is a break from the noise and the activity to just sit still and be. I always feel my dad with me on these mornings. I know he is near, and I know he is at peace. As I finish my second cup of coffee, I prepare to start my day knowing that there is quiet and respite in this day… we just need to take the time to listen and to find it. My dad gave me that.