Luckily I still awaken to the realization of great blessings (including the one slumbering next to me), and it helps. It reminds me of a poem my mom wrote a long time ago, called, "Morning":
Still half asleep, I hear the rain -
Sad little drops from murky skies.
Another soggy, muddy boot day
Settles sadly in my foggy mind
Sighing, waking, I turn toward you
And find your sweet smile and bear hug.
Slow, sunshiny gladness stirs my heart
As my happy world turns warm and dry.
And after arising this morning I remembered the words of Ecclesiastes:
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven...
...a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance...
Maybe morning time is my "mourning" time (which is thankfully supported by a bear hug), and maybe (hopefully) there will also be time each day to laugh and dance.