Wordless

Every morning for as long as I remember, Oliver greets me silently to start the day. If he's just woken up he will simply move toward me and put his weight against me, sometimes hugging, sometimes just standing as he slowly separates from his dreams and solitary slumber in the comfort of my warmth. If I'm up later than him, which I almost always am, I will come into the kitchen behind where he's sitting on a stool and he will lean back and reach out to pull me to him. Next comes what I can only describe as a nuzzle, where he, for only a moment, rubs his head against my shoulder then resumes his breakfast or his show. He doesn't think about any of this. It's one of my favourite connection rituals.