I’m sitting in the new light of morning, sipping warm lemon water because it is not yet time to break my overnight fast with a fresh cheese-laden omelette.

The warm water comforts me and the tangy taste of lemon makes one feel like I’m doing something good for my body to start my day. I sip slowly; pondering my schedule, jotting little notes, listening to my cats lap up fresh icy water.

When I am alone, I’ll indulge in one of my favorite little joys: dropping the spent lemon slices into the drain and breaking the morning hush by turning on the disposal.

It seems like such a violent end for the glowing yellow skin. They’ve just been so kind to me and here I am, repaying them with a noisy sharp blade.

But then the scent reaches my nose and I realize that I’m forgiven.

They have more to give me.

And they do it willingly…

“Wait. I have one more gift for you before I go…”

I’m grateful anew.

I’m reminded that it’s never too late to give of yourself. To pivot from the original course.

To be generous to the last.