Life of Wry

What Monday morning isn’t about coffee, huh?

This is the bottom of cup number two, in cafe number two.  That was my morning…not unlike a lot of my mornings lately–hustled through morning mom missions, worked out, walked with people, drank coffee with people.

I’m a big fan of Monday mornings.  Because…

• I like beginnings.  I love a fresh start.  I like coming out of slothiness and into productivity.

• I love the morning.  I would start them earlier if I could end the previous day earlier.  Will work on that.

• I’m alliterate.

Anyway, on this particular Monday morning, the walk was with a friend’s mom.  She’s 81… and damn, she’s spry.  She’s so spry, it would be an insult to call her spry (I would imagine).  She is simply active, sharp & quick, engaged, competent.  Also, impressively, comfortable in her older skin–willing to admit when she needs help, and appreciative when she gets it.  (Filing that away.)  Every bit my match, and then some.  Exactly as you’d want someone’s mom to be; we want our elders wise.

I try to be mindful of not playing the part of younger person out with an older person.  I am remembering the words of my mom who, on a recent coffee outing, hissed at me: “do not talk to me like I am out on a hall pass.”  I got the message.  So did the barista, so did the people behind us.  Un.com.fort.able…but a point well made.

So, I’m thinking about all that…  Moms. Mondays. Mornings. Missions. Mindfulness.  (See? Alliterate.)

That’s the original picture –>