Yonder Come Day

It was another dark, rainy morning in Portland. Waking the kids at 6:30 am in the pitch dark is always a challenge but especially for my sleepy-headed son. He screams if I turn on his overhead light so I try to break him in gently by turning on the hall light and opening his door. If this does not provoke a response within 15 minutes then I turn on his overhead light. By this time he is buried so far under his covers that not even his hair is showing.

This morning nothing seemed to work. I went into his room and sat on his bed. After rubbing his back for several moments he poked his head out. He wanted to stay home. The kids in his class have been laughing at him because he does not know his times tables. This is his perception of the situation. In reality, he is frustrated that he has not been able to learn the tables as quickly as some of his peers.

I gave him my standard pep talk about not giving in to his sadness. How if he applied the same determination and passion he uses when he is learning how to do a new trick on his bicycle to learning his math then he would solve the problem. About how getting dressed and eating breakfast would make things look brighter.

And then I started to sing. "Yonder Come Day" is one of our favorite family songs. The point of this story is that I was singing. In the morning. Something I had not done in months and months. And it felt good.

I have not had a headache in 48 hours. They had become so sever that I could not read and writing, loud noises and bright lights made me wince. It oft times felt as if my eyeballs were going to explode out of my head and my brain would begin leaking out of my ears.

So I am guardedly optimistic. No headache and singing are good signs. Very good signs.

(Given the time...ha...I plan on catching up on my blog reading. Go visiting some friends and see what they have been up to these last few weeks.)