Getting Up Early

Believe it or not, I think I'm starting to enjoy getting up early.

On days when we have a long drive ahead of us, the whole group wakes up around 4am, breaks down the tents, eats breakfast at 5, and is on the road by 6. I'm beginning to find something satisfying about this, which eerily reminds me that I may be turning into my father.

He's the type of dad that gets up at 5am whether he wants to or not, and then goes about accomplishing things. Chores, mostly. Changing the oil on our cars, going shopping at the Chinese farmer's market underneath the freeway, mowing the lawn, etc etc. Lots of dad-type stuff.

As a teenager, I remember waking up most Sat/Sun mornings at 10am at the earliest, bleary-eyed and confused, and he'd exclaim with surprise that I was up so "early." And then, he'd tell me all the things he had already done that morning (in contrast to my sluglike laziness). My standard response would usually be to mumble something noncommittal before heading into the living room to mind-meld with the TV.

I began this post intending to talk about how I kinda like getting up early now. But actually, what I think I want to say is that I miss my dad. It'll be good to see him again.