The alarm sings happily, way before it’s time to smile. The sun hasn’t yet lit the sky, and Russell is making coffee and yogurt with granola as I turn off the alarm and roll over. My fancy pillow has the power to cool my head, so I flip it over and hug the pillow with my face.
I look at my phone, deciding what I have to do today. The calendar tells me I’m interviewing someone about buzzing the brain non invasively with magnetic pulses. I remind myself to check the camera battery, and … find the camera.
I’m sweating as I sit up to drink my coffee. I grab a large chunk of granola and eat it while I mix the yogurt with a spoon, pulling the chunks of peach from the bottom of the yogurt cup.
We sip our coffee and catch up on the news. It’s 06:00 and the Marines are in California.
We talk. I whine. Russell listens. It’s been 17 years, and we’ve never really fought. That’s all his nature, though, and I remind myself how fortunate I am.
By 06:30, he’s out the door with his bookbag on his back. It’s strange seeing him leave for work without a guitar.
I remind myself how I came through it all and have everything I ever wanted. Well, assuming the kids get up and let the dogs. I jest.
Russell cranks the engine from the porch and moseys down the sidewalk.
He doesn’t have to climb to get into the driver’s seat of his cream-colored Tahoe with the Mandalorian and Star Wars stickers, but he keeps a step stool to help his 82-year-old mother get into the truck.
After buckling his seat belt, Russell rolls down the window and looks at the bricks lining the Hope Driveway that I built on a whim. I smile every time I see the river rocks crossing the yard next to the mailbox.
He says it’s been helpful navigating my landscaping because now he’s learning to drive a school bus like his dad did.
The truck rolls over the curb toward the four-way stop that will one day soon be a roundabout as I let the Shih Tzu use the yard.
I scramble up the steps as the Tahoe leaves my line of sight.
I smile and sing to myself, “Hail to the bus driver, bus driver man.”