Mama, if we were having coffee right now I’d tell you how much I wish I had said yes to your invitation to get a cup of coffee and a bite of something sweet that Christmas Eve so long ago. I remember how excited I felt that my husband, our three little boys and I had flown to Greenwood to spend Christmas with you and Daddy. This was a special trip. It was wonderful news that you were recovering after the scary trouble you had with congestive heart failure. That Christmas Eve was a busy day. Even though you usually began Christmas shopping in July there were always a few last minute things you had on your list. You loved shopping and could run rings around me hunting for the perfect gift for each grandchild. You wore me out. After you finished shopping you wanted to stop for a cup of coffee. Remember all the times we had coffee together through the years. First it was after clothes shopping for me and later for baby things. It was practically a ritual. But that Christmas Eve I said no. I needed to get back and see what my sons were up to. At bedtime I watched you stuff their Christmas stockings with goodies. You put an orange in the toe of each stocking, just like you did for us children when we were young. In the middle of the night Daddy woke us up to say the Emergency Squad was on the way to take you to the hospital. You had a heart attack and died early Christmas morning. I’m so sorry I didn’t have that cup of coffee with you.
poetrybyheart.me
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
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You have said it all. I thought my parents would live forever and that tomorrow there would be time. How much I regret not having that cup of coffee with them when I had the chance. Great memory to cherish! Nigel
Thanks for your comment, Nigel. My mother died when I was thirty-five and my dad two years later. There are so many things I wish I could have shared with them.
A blessed reminder to all of us that little things mean a lot, don’t rush by them. Thanks.
I love your comment. Thanks.
Oh Ina, I’m sad that you regret not having that cup of coffee, but still you were there on that Christmas Eve and were able to spend the day shopping and watching your mother carry on that tradition of the stockings.
Thanks for your caring comment. I feel more wistful than regretful after so many years. ❤
Lovely writing and sad memory! We all have those regrets at some point xoxo
I always appreciate your thoughtful comments. Thanks.
I love to visit!
Oh, yes. ❤
Thank you, Lynn. ❤