After all these years I have yet to fall in love with mornings, in fact, I struggle still to fully appreciate the early hours of a new day.  Admittedly weekend mornings have a completely different flavour to them, as opposed to the work week, however neither will be found under my favourites.

I am able to tolerate weekend morns due to the fact they exist without the heart stopping peal of my nemesis the alarm clock.  When I retire, or finally lay claim to that elusive winning lottery ticket, I will dispense with my night table clock.  I may even have a ritual burning of said clock, and I will take perverse pleasure in watching its inner circuitry suffer irreparable damage.

I realize there are worse things than early mornings, but sometimes, while experiencing the weekly grind, I forget.

Recently, as life tends to do, I was offered up a valuable lesson in gratitude.

A long time friend of hubby’s was struck by MS…Muscular Dystrophy…about 10 years ago when only in his late 30’s.  MS can progress slowly for some, but for others it can move at a heartbreaking rate.  Hubby’s friend, a once tall and hearty man, has been left crippled with very little independent mobility.  His world has shrunk drastically, leaving him to deal with a painful morning commute from bed to wheelchair.

Not long ago, he told hubby he would give anything to be able to rise in the early hours to don his trade uniform and head off to work.  He had put in many years in the HVAC (Heating, ventilating, and air conditioning) Industry and was proud of his license and his ability to earn a good living for his family.  Now, he must depend on the assistance of others to dress, he struggles to stabilize his head movements in order to control his wheelchair, and finds it increasingly difficult to swallow.

Going back to work was the goal he wanted to strive towards, it was the dream he needed to believe would happen.  This year he will let his license lapse.

Another door closing.

Life is not always fair, and the cards we are dealt are not always what we want to see.

Suddenly we may find we miss that morning ritual called work.

Gratitude—something I must remember daily.

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