Morning

Morning

Streaming through the lace-edged curtains are the
golden rays of sun fresh morning.
The sounds of gentle noises float through
my window: early walkers exchanging greetings;
garbage trucks collecting neighborhood
remains; a little girl kissing Daddy good-bye;
birdsong. A drowsy yawn escapes as I
stretch awake under the softness of fiberfill
comfort. Brring! Brring! The jarring sound
of the alarm clock brings me to full
wakefulness...and questions. What will
I face today? Compliance? Opposition?
Eagerness or aggression? Mornings are always
a surprise when a child is developementally
disabled with a side of mental illness tossed
in. No more time for reflection...Time to
rouse my son. Time for his rushed bath...
a hurried dressing...brushing of teeth...
swallowing of medications...an argument.
He grabs his bookbag and jacket; hurries
outside to await his bus. I peer
anxiously through the curtains...watching.
"Is he alright?" "Will he offend the
neighbors?" "Is he acting as he should?"
Bright yellow school bus arrives. It takes
my son to school and brings me respite...
return to sanity. As the bus pulls away,
I sigh, "Another morning has passed."
And then, I accept my reward and
pour myself that familiar cup of coffee.