A Mother's Day

Today on the deck

There is nothing like sitting out on the deck on a May morning with a fresh cup of Colombian coffee in a favorite mug!

This morning I found a package on the front porch from NYC.  It included the notebook above, a pair or earrings in a combo of favorites--gold and pearl. And it came with a handwritten note on a custom card from her company which began, "To a Mom who taught me to love fat and coffee!"

Now fat is certainly essential to life and growth, and no one has ever come up with anything bad about coffee in moderation (and life here on earth would be unsustainable without either), but one might hope a daughter could find something slightly more sentimental to highlight in a Mother's Day greeting!

The youngest daughter ... what can I say? I have some responsibility, I suppose, for who she has become. Her writing is fresh, slightly edgy, understated, cryptic, tinged with sarcasm.

Last night when I returned home I checked to find a Sunday-delivered package from the Florida daughter. A beautiful card and dinner from the local daughter ... I was well remembered!

All around me are memories. More memories because I save so many things!

The coffee mug above with the gold Gevalia logo now washed off was purchased used, after that youngest daughter broke the nice black one (on purpose!) that came with a Gevalia purchase years ago. This cup has a nice "lip feel" and remains a favorite. It is a dark green color, but I wish I still had that black one!

I wonder if she remembers that she broke my favorite coffee cup? Our memories are very selective.

In her note, she also referenced her favorite sandwich that I would make her after a long day at school when she was hangry--sometimes to the point of tears.

If I remember correctly, this is the sandwich: Lightly toasted, buttered white bread, albacore tuna, drained thoroughly, well mixed with Hellman's Mayo, a little dill relish, a small squirt of yellow mustard, a little salt.

On the deck are two black pots gifted to me by one daughter, the new planter basket purchased with another daughter this spring, a nice pot (not in photo) with a spike plant that I have overwintered since inheriting it from the NYC move of that youngest daughter.

So much to remember. Everything becomes a memory, if you can retrieve it. I hope that one day I will recall only the good things.

BTW, what can you put in a pretty new notebook that is important enough, words that you have to write down with a pen, by hand, no editing??