In my Elmer Fudd morning voice, I croaked "Hello…" to my friend Fran who telephoned on her way to work. First, she paused, and then, by the sound of her voice I could tell she was a bit surprised by the fact that I was obviously still under the covers….A couple layers deep. Having experienced divorce herself, we commiserated about the need to grieve and that sometimes you just have to have *"blue mornings." That's my always uber-clever friend, Fran's label for those mornings when my will to get just doesn't go. Or only after I have a prolonged session swimming in the thick alternately hot and cold waters of grief. "Don't go too deep," she warned. "Oh, no," I assured. This is not clinical depression. I'm just wading, I added. She agreed, it's what we need to do when life's expectations plunge south.

After a while, I cracked open my journal and the last time I'd written was two weeks earlier when I'd experienced another blue morning.

I've waded these waters before. And, I've come to accept and even welcome these blue mornings. I can remember my blue morning eight years ago. I delivered my daughter to school, returned home, and then gave myself permission to turn back the covers and crawl back in and tend to the wounds of my spirit. At some point before midmorning, I'd feel better, rise and proceed with the day. It astonishes me that on these days I am met upright with a gush of gratitude and a sweet sense of joy for the little things. This morning, it was for my new, sweet surroundings. For the rain that brought green to my garden. For the cool desending after a summer of near-incessant, near-suffocating heat. For the season of cool'–the first cup of tea. I christened my favorite mug with Tazo loose Earl Grey & lavender, splashed with soy.

It's important to grieve, you know. And, yes, I'm well aware that not everyone can't afford a weekday blue morning. It's a perk of self-employment.

*Update: I wrote this a year ago early last September. I'm happy to say that blue mornings have vanished. But, I'm sharing this anyway because we all experience grief in our lives and we need those times of refuge where we can tuck in and heal.