Waking Up Is Hard To Do

Dearest Rachel –

There are still some mornings when I wake up, bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to take on the world and everything in it. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, God’s in his heaven and all’s well with the world.

I can’t remember when the last time was that I had one of those days, which should give you an indication this is not one of them.

Look, it’s not exactly a complaint. It’s just a statement of fact that this is not a bound-out-of-bed-and-greet-the-morning type of day. The sky is gray, and trying very hard to spit on us all (with minimal success) so it’s not easy to tell what time it is – you tend to think it’s earlier than it really is. I was just trying to process this morning’s dream – some thing about winning the (uncredited) role of Wall-E in the sequel to that Pixar classic, and apparently getting the chance to work alongside the likes of David Tennant and Matt Smith in the bargain. Dreams; go figure.

Even with all that going on in my head, I did manage to wake up before Chompers. Just. Which means I really didn’t get the chance to savor that fact, as a quick trip to the bathroom basically wakes him up and alerts him to the fact that he’d done a small amount of business on the rug, which he’s no more pleased about then I am. Needless to say, he begins to whine, and I have to prepare him for his wheelchair, and take him out onto the front yard, setting him down on the pavement to make sure I see some results. Unfortunately, though he may be awake, he’s not awake enough that he stays standing. His front legs splay forward until he’s all but on his elbows (do I call them that? Or are they just his front knees?), and his weight slowly pushes the wheels further backwards, until he’s as close to lying down while still being in the wheelchair as he can be. He’s also on the verge of settling into the puddle he’s just made, and of course that won’t do. So I need to pick him up, wheelchair and all, and place him down somewhere else where the wheels won’t roll.

At least the grassy part of the front yard is sunken down far enough that the pavement provide him some support.

Also, it’s almost late enough for me to be willing to feed him. It’s not 7 o’clock just yet, but at this point I’ll spot him the extra fifteen, twenty minutes. At least he can be happy about that.

And speaking of being happy, just because I’m not feeling it this morning doesn’t mean that there aren’t others that are. Even in the relatively short span of time that we’re out, I watch two joggers and a bicyclist pass by. In fact, I think one of the joggers passes by going in both directions (no, not at the same time – Shortly after getting outside she crosses in front of us, and just before I pick him up to bring him in, I think a recognize her returning from the other direction).

I suppose it makes sense for those on an exercise kick to get out at this hour and to enjoy the day as it is. Certainly the 60° or so weather we’re dealing with is a marked improvement over the last few days where it’s been a blistering 90° and then some.

I wonder if Erin is able to enjoy these temperatures, what with her continued training for the marathon. Of course, right now I believe she’s just about to wrap up her work day, so probably not yet. Between those two challenges in her life – working the graveyard shift, and running so many miles every day – I do feel badly for her. To which she would probably respond with “why?” These are choices and commitments that she’s made on her own, whereas some of the things I’m dealing with I had no control over.

We’re back inside now, and while I’d settled Chompers on his blanket in front of the bookshelf, he’s wobbled his way over to where he’s lying on the carpet instead. Oh well, as long as he’s comfortable. I’m debating whether or not to go back to bed, but I don’t quite trust him not to stir and start whining such that he wakes Daniel up. Of course, the pinging and talking that I’m making to Siri could just as easily do that, I suppose.

Besides, it won’t be long before we have visitors. Kris will be here this morning to clean, and Jan will be here… either later this morning, or early in the afternoon? I forget which. Basically, I consider them to be tag teaming each other. Which probably sounds funnier than it really is. At least plenty of work gets done – no thanks to me, I suppose. Kris all but operates on her own, and sometimes I wonder if I don’t interfere with what Jan wants to do.

Yeah, I think the greyness of the day is starting to get to me. Best to rest a little bit longer, and hope for a little more cheer in my spirit when I return to the land of the living.

I’ll talk to you later, darling. Until then.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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