Something comforting about Cinnamon

As I sit in the hospital's cafe, I had to comment on the comfort of cinnamon. My husband Trey is in recovery after full hip replacement surgery. He's sleeping, pain free, warm and oblivious to the world around him. Me, on the other hand, I'm totally exhausted. We haven't been getting much sleep the past 10 days as he's been without pain medication and has been waking up shouting "ouch" and he grips his hip. We left home at 4:45a.m and since he couldn't have anything to eat or drink, I skipped my coffee and breakfast too. It's only now that I'm able to stop and get something. Ah, a cup of coffee and the best cinnamon muffin I've ever had. Though strangers walk around me and Fox News is on the wall mounted TV, I'm comforted by this muffin that has a cinnamon crumbly top. I'm almost transported back to our home, which offers us this beautiful peacefulness each morning. Almost, as my pager next to me rattles a sign that they're moving my husband to his room now and I have to get up and go.