I woke up this morning, happy, but really more like “bonkerz-and-bonan-az!”
I looked in the mirror and started laughing uncontrollably.
My hair had a “bonkerz-and-bonan-az” look all its’ own.
It reminded me of my late daughter, April, when she would walk in the room every morning.
With her hair tossed every which way
And we would go “bonkerz and bonan-az” together.
“Hello beautiful,” she would say (no matter what I looked like)
No one could see or hear us.
We danced in our long flannel nightgowns with our hair flying in every direction.
Releasing perfection to its own kraziness.
To let the day unfold in its’ own way of hilarity and fun.
And, yeah, with a “bonkerz-and-banan-az” mentality.
My husband and I now live in a different place retired in the mountains.
And we could not be happier.
It’s taken us both a while to adjust to the quiet of no longer hearing April’s voice in the mornings or seeing her come through the door.
Along with the quiet that came with retirement.
And one morning, when I walked into the room, he said, “Good morning, beautiful!”
I went all “bonkerz-and-banan-az” over him.
And I said “Good morning, handsome.”
And then we both said, “Good morning, April.
It’s a “bonkerz-and-banan-az” day.
And, when we started dancing in the kitchen.