Breakfast Bliss

It was late Sunday morning and the sun was streaming its silk opaque light into the bedroom. I looked over to my husband who was softly snoring sunk deep in our blankets. I stretched luxuriously in the warmth of our big bed, and looked over the edge to see our dog curled up on her pillow bed hugging her favorite pink flamingo stuffed animal. I got up to check on our old kitty Tigger who had somehow pulled a muscle in his rear right leg, and was walking around stiffly like a little old man with a bad case of sciatica. My son's bedroom was quiet, he was also still sound asleep. I smiled. Everyone was home, that meant my husband would cook his big Sunday breakfast. The best part about his breakfasts was that he enjoyed making them as much as he enjoyed eating them, and we loved his enthusiasm. The kitchen would fill with smells of hot waffles and pancakes, of bacon cooking crisply, of eggs with grated cheese, of orange juice, honey, butter and plum jam, of coffee. I love the fact that my husband likes to cook, it makes for many a cozy meal and hour on the weekends, and it gives me a break from the meals I cook during the week and on also on weekend nights. After the leisurely relaxed late breakfast, my husband and son got busy repairing some of the thousand tiles on our patio that got loosened over the course of the 22 years ago when they were installed. My father and husband did the project together when our son was just two. Over the years , the cold and rain and heat had done damage and split about 70 of the tiles, and there were quite a few stretches of grout that needed to be redone as well, even where the tiles were intact. I busied myself with the dishes and the rest of the weekend laundry which always included the bedding and blankets and pillowcases of our dog and cat. Then I was able to get back to the tapestry of a young cat I was currently working on. That allowed me to hear and watch the guys busy on the tiles , as I use the kitchen table by the sliding glass door which leads to the patio and deck. It was such a simple weekend, with such simple pleasures, such simple tasks, but they filled my heart with a rush of bliss and warmth. I also felt a deep sense of gratitude and an understanding that having a family that lives in peace and safety and happiness is not something to be taken for granted. My husband and I both grew up dealing with parents stuck in dismally dysfunctional marriages fueled by the rage and misery of alcohol abuse and all its ugly minions. The world is today very tense, here and in Europe, the Middle East, parts of Africa and Asia. Hostility seems to be everywhere. There is a tendency to think in terms of us versus them, of turning the clock back to a time of intolerance and hatred towards those who are different from  us, both in our own country, and abroad. The most vulnerable pay the price, especially in the endless war in Syria, that to me raises the spectre of the atrocities during World War II when it comes to the brutality of the extremists towards their own people, and the indifference from some communities towards the suffering of the millions of refugees fleeing the barbarism of fanatics.
In contrast, the simple joy of a relaxed weekend breakfast and weekend project with my husband and son I know are treasured gifts. My mother was not very fond of my small and modest house, of our old cars, our simple lifestyle and unpretentious friends. But I think in hindsight she may have reconsidered her askew ambitions and relationships and how she favored them over her marriage and her children. Compared to some of the luxuries of having been raised the daughter of a successful CEO, my life is indeed very quiet and unassuming, but it is also happy and peaceful and real, and devoid of illusions and lies. My family is very small, since it consists of just my husband and son, but we have everything we need. We have a cozy home, plenty of clean water, and good food, we have warm, clean beds, safety, security, the love and devotion for each other, some loyal neighbours and friends, a supportive church. We live in a quiet street with good neighbours. We do not have to worry about bombs overhead, about destruction and fear around every corner, about fleeing our homeland with nothing but the clothes on our back, of seeing family and friends killed in the hatred and terror of a brutal civil war, of living without hope and a very elusive future. Perhaps if more of us appreciated what blessings we have, our hearts might be a little more giving, a lot more tolerant, and feel more love instead of fear when it comes to loving our neighbours in our own country and abroad who can only dream of experiencing a peaceful, bountiful breakfast on a sunny, peaceful morning in their cozy, safe,quiet home with all family members, children and adults, alive and well.
In that light, we should try very hard to keep war out of our hearts and minds, because that is where it starts, and before we know it we are part of the madness that thinks we should dislike or hate someone because they look and think differently.  The all wise Jedi master, Yoda, from the blockbuster success movie series, " Star Wars " cautions at one point that  " ... Fear creates anger, and anger hatred, and hatred creates suffering." This admonition seems to echo the Zeitgeist we are struggling with. Let us hope that in view of the horrific mistakes of the all too recent past of World War II that cost the lives of millions and millions of people, we can overcome that terrible blind fear and hatred that is born out of selfishness gone mad.