The first suggestion is, "something spiritual". But I would make a point of rushing to the radio to avoid even the first opening bars of whichever hymn was about to be released. The kitchen would fill with The Archers or Just A Minute or Hold Your Plums. My mum and me would be the only ones awake. My mum would choose the News of the World, I would try anything else but; even today it is a broadsheet, and always the rush to the restaurant review. Some quirk of a ritual remaining still.
The feeling, perhaps, most over-arching is awkwardness. An urge to leave the house and walk, walk without a destination, or purpose. As once was always done. A necessity. But all situations flow and alter so fluidly, that the freedom to walk for hours has to be tempered by the inability to leave people snoozing in my bed, as is currently happening now, my routine unchanged. As always happens on a day like this, the great freedom of the 'pause button' tendency. Which should be praised even in the absence of an 'amen'.