As the memories rush in, I have to pick just one. I can remember growing up in that old farm-house, often cold in the mornings because my dad had a phobia of fire whenever anyone slept and couldn’t keep watch. So my mom was often up very early to warm at least the kitchen. Looking across that old, yellow, formica kitchen table I see the percolator sitting on a flat, tortilla plate. It was mesmerizing to watch it boil and start to hiccup. As I was reminded recently, my mom always used a saucer with her cup of coffee, even into her 87th year. As I did when I was a child, sometimes I would watch her pour her coffee in her cup, not so steadily now as then, but all the same the same way. She would pour some of her coffee in her saucer, blow on it and drink it down. In younger years, all of us kids idolized my mother. There were six boys and three girls, with the oldest two being identical twins, and do I have stories to tell about them. My mom was a stately woman with chestnut, curly brown hair, green eyes with a soul of kindness and beauty. All of us kids would wait for her to get ready to go to town on Saturday. Her hair coiffed beautifully, sometimes with a flower comb on one side, her lip stick on and her shoes, of which she always called her pumps and of course her ear rings that were called ear bobs. When she was set, she was a show stopper. Oh the day doesn’t stop there, but for another time I will share more of the most classic, beautiful woman that ever graced this life. Miss you mom and miss our morning coffee.
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