I know people probably tire of hearing about my mother, but to me she was always a breath of fresh air. There was no other with a more tender heart than hers. It had been broken so many times, in different ways. It had been broken from loss of loved ones, especially the death of my sister. It had been broken by the promises my dad didn’t fulfill and from the lack of an easier provision for her children. You could count on her being up about 7 o’clock every morning since my dad passed away. One of us kids was always by her house in the mornings. There was always a pot of coffee going, she would say “we’re all coffee fiends”. I had my special, yellow cup that she always sat out for me. To her that was my cup, mix matched from all the rest. My oldest sister lives in my mom’s little house now and some mornings I go by and have coffee with her, using the same yellow cup my momma chose for me. My mother was comfort to her children. Through her, she instilled love mixed with survival, strength and endurance. Those are the things she had to offer and freely gave of herself. These teachings from her are worth more than all the material things I have acquired on earth. Over the years, looking back I can see her work diligently to finish the race she was given. Mother was vain and didn’t like the signs of wear upon her body. The last time I saw my mother she had just been to the grocery store, her stature straight and her laughter abounding. Every day she would walk to the post office, whether there was any mail expected or not. She never left the house without her curly hair fluffed and her lipstick in place, still a very attractive woman, expecting her 87th birthday soon. We all looked forward to her birthday. Every year we gave her a sweet 16 birthday party, she loved it and would always say “I wish” and make you believe they could come true. I wish I could have had more time with my mom, I wish I had stayed a little longer when I went to visit, and I wish we could have had that last sweet 16 birthday party, and we did. We placed last year’s photo of her with her sweet 16 candles burning. Unfortunately, she passed quietly in her sleep less than 3 weeks before her 87th birthday. The shock of it was brutal, but the reality of it was a blessing for her to be found sleeping. She was as beautiful in death as she was in life. If you looked closely, there was a smile on her face. That smile was her sign, her telling that all was well and that she was happy, that what she saw was brilliant and she was at peace. Her favorite song was “On the Wings of a Dove”. My mother n law sang that song at my mother’s service as well as it had ever been sang by anyone. I guess in longing for those moments with my mother I express the need for anyone reading this that still has your mother, give her a hug that lasts just a little longer than usual, stay 5 more minutes than usual, tell her you love her one more time than usual, kiss her sweet cheek for me and say thank you mom, you are the best, and if you have time, drink one more cup of coffee from your mix matched yellow cup with her.
Copyright @coffeewithcharles.blog (Charles D. Grant)