Each day is a blessing

When I was very young, I used to love to get up really early so that I could spend some time alone with my mother who was an early riser – just her and I. There were six of us vying for her attention plus our dog. So the earlier I got up the more time I had with her.
As I got older I wanted to sleep the day away because it seemed like the days stretched for too long, particularly after my mother died. I could not handle the idle hours that stretched ahead of me so I would not get out of bed before noon because then at least a large part of the day was gone. When I was in my twenties and feeling totally insecure about everything in my life, on weekends I would stay in bed with the blinds closed for the whole day because then I didn’t have to face anyone or anything. I lost myself in movies that I rented to escape the reality of my nonlife.
After having children my sleeping habits changed dramatically because I stopped sleeping. I have two children who never slept through the night – my son woke every four hours until he was two years old then he slept through the night lulling me into a false belief that if I had another child he or she would sleep through the night. My daughter came along four years later and woke up every two hours until she was two as well, got a bit better but now even at eight years old she comes into our bed at about two in the morning pressing her body against mine or my husband’s to go back to sleep. Now I understand why I slept all those years before to prepare my body for nonsleep.
Now in my late forties, I love to wake up with the sun rising, just before the sun rise is even better. I love to look at the promise of a new day to see how the day will turn out, to watch the clouds to see whether they are angry or kind, to see the dawn burst into daylight, to see the silhouettes of the trees bending in the breeze, to listen to the stillness of the day before everything bursts into action.
I love waking early because now I want the days to stretch, to feel endless because time seems to be speeding up with each year that I get older. I now understand why the elderly tend to get up at three in the morning because they are so pleased to have another day on this earth and they want to stretch out their last days as much as they can. I can totally relate to how they feel now because time is not waiting for me or anyone else. It is marching on and I just want to make sure I enjoy every second, every minute, every hour of each day because seeing another day is truly a blessing.