She loved the way the morning light gently reflected on the world outside her window when she opened her eyes. She was filled with gratitude that the magic in something so everyday was still astounding. Her thoughts shifted internally as she tried movement beyond raising her eyelids. Everything beyond that seemed to require more effort than the day before.
She cautiously swung her legs over the side of the mattress and slipped into her L.L. Bean wicked good slippers.
She smiled as she grabbed her robe off the edge of the bed where he placed it every morning. Simple everyday acts of love were habit, and the familiarity of it always brought a sense of comfort. The robe had held up well, though it showed signs of aging in line with her own.
Years ago they had removed all the Berber carpeting that held the unique forensic history of raising children both human and canine. As she shuffled down the hall to the kitchen, she wondered if it had been a mistake to go with hardwood floors, as the softness of her slippers was not enough to protect her feet from their unforgiving nature.
Her pace quickened as the aroma of the fresh brew beckoned. She knew before she made it to the coffee pot, that she would see him from the window over the sink, watching the sun complete its journey to command over the mountain ridge.
She filled her cup that sat in waiting by the pot, and held the coffee with two hands up to her lips like a sacred chalice. Looking out the window she observed this old man standing in the majesty of another day. His ruddy neck, slightly cocked to one side, weathered with history from the sun, his slightly bowed legs that filled his blue jeans, the white t shirt that was his summer uniform, and she still saw the boy she fell so deeply for years ago.
He turned and smiled as he saw the girl through the pane of glass.