It is early morning when I try to wake our 15 (almost 16!) year old son, just after 6:00 am. He isn't easy to rouse - he's a good sleeper. I come back two or three times to his room, turning on his light, nudging his arm, reminding him that he has practise. It is a basketball morning. I need to get him to the school by 7:15. We almost always get there a bit late. Even though he showers and gets things ready, packing his basketball shoes, grabbing his lunch, eating a "power breakfast" of a granola bar because he doesn't have time to anything else, he is usually comatose in the vehicle until we pull up to the school.
There is very little light at this time of the morning. The headlights are necessary as I drive the country roads on the back way to the school. It is quiet and peaceful. We don't talk much on the way there. It's only a short drive.
Sometimes it's hard to coordinate mornings with three of us getting ready (and one bathroom, that renovation isn't done yet!), making lunches, letting the cat in and out about four times, remembering to grab my laptop, straightening my hair, figuring out who is doing what after work... and sometimes it is frustrating having to take our son somewhere before our work day starts. Sometimes my husband takes him and rushes to have a shower before he goes to work.
Two recent events, however, make me thankful that I have these busy, dark, early mornings (and had them with our daughter as well - volleyball mornings usually). A young man in the community committed suicide . He left a lengthy note. It was a huge funeral. A young woman, my sister-in-law's niece, just died of a rare and very aggressive form of cancer. She had her whole life ahead of her. I believe she was 22 years old. I imagine the parents of these two young adults would give anything for the opportunity to go into their child's room and wake them up, or share a cold car ride together. They would probably long for another simple conversation, or to have them sit next to them on the couch and burrow their feet behind them, sharing a blanket, laughing at the same stupid scenes in a movie. I cannot imagine what the families must be going through. I'm just truly thankful that our two children are healthy and happy. Those are the basics- healthy and happy- the rest is just icing on the cake.
Go hug your children.