UGH. Christmas time is usually tough on my mind, especially since 1997. Growing up in Mountlake Terrace, Washington, USA, we were typical middle-class, “nuclear” family. That meant we had enough money between two paychecks to pay for basics but discretionary funds for extra items, especially Christmas gifts were not available.
My mom succumbed to gastric cancer on December 17, 1997. Her death was devastating to the family and myself. In order to think of better times, my mind would drift off to experiences that my mother and I shared.
Easy Like Sunday Morning
While I was in high school I worked for Payless Drug Store. Most of the time I was scheduled to work Sunday, and early shifts. My Mom didn’t typically sleep in, therefore was usually awake while I was getting ready for work.
Every Sunday that we shared, I would brew coffee for us to enjoy, my Mom would retrieve the delivered Sunday newspaper. In 1990’s, the printed newspaper was still a “thing”, especially the Sunday edition.
What most folks have forgotten that Sunday edition newspaper included:
- Coupons
- Comics
- Editorials
- One-off Inserts
- So much more
We would divide up the newspaper the same way. I would pass the coupons to Mom, while I laid the sports section in front of myself. Then we continue to parcel out the sections: I would seek out comics, and she would like front page.
All the while we would comfortably share silence.
That’s right we wouldn’t exchange a word for about an hour to an hour and a half. More often than not, most folks feel the compulsion to fill the air with conversation. I didn’t realize how much I would cherish those moments more than ever.
It was always easy like Sunday morning. I miss those mornings.
‘los; out
los, Fil-Am Renaissance Man 