A hot cup of coffee (or in my case, four) and an older man’s cough. I can’t even remember when this started. Must have been such a slow and gradual change that I hadn’t cared to take notice. Until now.
Sort of mortifies me and fills me with pride somewhat, too. Pride in feeling the baritone rumble in my chest as I clear my throat and make ready for my day. Funny how a thing like that can make one feel all masculine and manly, and foolishly wimpy at the same time.
Yep… As I fumble through the kitchen making my way toward the den, and managing not to spill a drop of my java, I’ve realized I have reached the age where this has become my morning routine. My ritual.
Dad’s used to be sneezing. A huge pot of coffee and a string of sneezes – sometimes he’d sneeze up to as many as 30 or 40 times in a row. Every, EVERY morning. Terrible.
Makes me grateful to only have a cough; even if it is the morning cough of an ‘older’ man.
It’s who I am now, anyway… and that’s fine with me. Cough, and keep going. Keep moving. Forward.
Speaking of; it’s getting late. The morning rush will be in full swing here in Houston and it’s time for me to head out in it. I’ve got to get to the gym and start moving stuff around before I head into my office. Consider this a reminder that you should probably haul your bones out there and move some stuff around, too. Trust me. You’re not too old for it.
Finish your coffee, clear your throat, and move your muscles. It’s all part of the plan to keep moving toward a better you.
So… keep moving toward a better you.