It’s after dinner on a weeknight. I’m finishing up the dishes, washing the last bowl and this wave of missing my mom crashes over me. Why? Because after I wash the salad bowl, I empty the coffee grounds that have been sitting in a magic ‘gold filter’ all day.
This was something Mom did right after the coffee was brewed.
“It makes the coffee bitter if you let the grounds sit in the filter,” she used to say.
I’m not convinced this is true, but what I do know is that it was a Small Act of Kindness (SAOK). For the time Mom lived with us–which wasn’t very long–I really felt loved when I’d open the top of the coffee pot to see a clean filter. Dumb.
And yet, tonight for some inexplicable reason, the singular act of cleaning out the coffee filter fills me with such a profound sense of loss. I have to do something or it will be unbearable.
Autumn is in full stride. The leaves are turning. The air is crisp. Neighbors’ fires fill the evening air with hickory, and birch and oak. And I miss my mom to the very core of my being.
Tomorrow I will wake up and make coffee. I’m going to smile knowing that it was Mom who finally got me to start this blog.
I love you Good Mom Seifert. You were such an awesome mom.
Elizabeth, I love the photo of you in the warm embrace of your mother. The two of you look so happy and content.
With that in mind, it moved me to share my thoughts about my mother.
My mother passed last December 19. That day, I marveled at how easily she left–nothing about my mother was ever considered, easy.
Dorothea Webb, my mother, was a complicated, creative, strong-willed, beautiful, and pushy woman. She was also a frustrated lady–her life-plan thwarted by the restrictions of her time. Yet, the hurdles that confronted her only made her all the more determined, frustrated, yes, but determined, nonetheless.
Her strong will was always an aspect of her personality that I admired–it had such a strong impact on my life. Her influence triggered in me a determination, strong-will, and the knack to be considered, at times, a pushy woman too.
She championed my every plan, scheme, and strategy to do, be, and learn more–I am so grateful for the woman my mother was, and in some sense, remains.
Every day, I miss the presence of my unique and wonderful mother. But when she left, it was with the ability to look forward. So, I do. And today, when someone refers to me as a pushy woman, I think, ‘thanks ma.’
Hi Rosemarie, what a beautiful note regarding your mom. It sounds like she was a Mama Bear! She was definitely the type of mom who raised a daughter who could fly a plane! Pushy or not, you’re amazing!
Elizabeth that was a moving, understated and elegant tribute to Mom. It’s just like her. You convey her quiet and often subtle essence beautifully. Your deep sense of loss is conveyed, but not overplayed. So succinct and powerful again-just like Mom. Though I’ve seen you sitting in front of her portrait, I hadn’t made the literal “angel over my shoulder” connection. She was a fierce angel in countless ways. Now, that I’m older I can truly appreciate what an extraordinary woman she was, in a ordinary way. I miss her everyday, but yesterday for some reason I cried to my daughter Katie, about missing Nana. You must be right the falls winds, dropping temperatures and early dark nights are stirring up the leaves and feelings. Mom is not physically here anymore, but all I have to do is pick up the phone call you, or one of our brothers. I’m comforted and feel Mom’s love through each of you. Love you little sister.
Kimberly – thank you for your lovely comment. It’s so true that sometimes the things that are right in front of us are so hard to see, e.g.”The angel over my shoulder.” Mom was truly amazing at helping us – all four of us – be able to see the joy and perfection of life as presented. In. That. Moment. Wow. She was such an amazing woman. I can only aspire to be the mom she was to us.