The morning begins. A new month; April has arrived despite all our fears that it would not. That March would hold on forever.
My eyes struggle to open, heavy with sleep, not yet ready to succumb to waking. The new day greets my face when I eventually draw-the-curtains open; spring waves hello as a gale rustles the leaves in the trees. The cherry blossom stretches out her velvet pink petals; squirrels dart across freshly manicured lawns. The wise, old oak tree stands solid, confident, his eyes forever fixed on my kitchen window, watching.
Gratitude. Everything must begin and end with gratitude. I reflect on this as I tie the plush belt around my housecoat and walk to the kitchen, greeting my daughters, hair tousled and knotted from a good night’s sleep. In this moment, I am content, but that is not always the case.
These days, endless days, surrounded by the same four walls, the same four inhabitants, can easily become daunting and tiresome. In order to endure months of isolation, I know I must cling to gratitude–I must seek it out, relish it.
And so, I begin…
Aromatic beans, freshly ground for my morning coffee, intoxicate my senses as I deeply inhale.
The pat-pat-pat of The Little One’s foot as she works on a puzzle–a classic tell-tale sign of her concentration.
Laughter trickling into the house from where the girls play farm in the backyard. Where Maebelle (Minnie-Mae) and Mary-Anne (Annie) tended their horses and cows and pick ripe apples from the tree–a cedar tree in which they’ve balanced green apples on its branches.
Settling into bed, with a hot cup of coffee, ready to start my workday. Blessed to call my bedroom my office and for the ability to work remotely when so many have lost their jobs.
A short, unexpected visit from my sister and nephews. The face-to-face interaction with another human being much welcomed and enjoyed.
The spontaneity of placing a few clothing items in a virtual shopping cart and eagerly anticipating their arrival and addition to my wardrobe.
The movement of sunlight from one side of my room to the other, as she makes her trek around the world.
Clouds creep across the skies now. I set aside my work and nestle back into the pillows on my bed and open a blank page. Even the longest of months eventually come to an end, offering hope and newness and possibility.
I sip the americano prepared and delivered to me by My Love and linger with my thoughts before I begin typing; taking a moment to conjure up the moments of gratitude from the day.
Photo taken by Rebecca Sehn