PWJHlRpx_6eHC-vK1GNOTPW5L2D7rb2GfGJcmdWViQgWhy do coffee and weekend mornings go together so well? It’s like a little piece of heaven to slow things down and enjoy some time to relax with a good cup of coffee, a good book, or good company. It’s something that we often take for granted. When life takes a sudden turn upside down and becomes fraught with worry and sorrow, it is these simple pleasures that we miss the most.

When a loved one has passed or a family member is chronically ill and the day seems to pull you in so many directions, life becomes pure chaos. Nothing makes sense. It’s difficult to remember why you walked into a room. You may be thinking you are having a good day and suddenly, something skips through your mind (a song, a smell, a picture) and you unleash a bucket of tears. Are you crazy? Not at all! The grief journey is hard. It’s a long road and the sadness of losing a loved one creeps into your daythroughout the remainder of your life.

My brother, Brian died on March 10, 1989. My last memory of him and I doing something together was the month before he died. We sat in my kitchen on a Sunday morning having coffee. Simple, sweet, quiet… just me and him exchanging stories about our life, sharing thoughts on the lessons we learned and just being a brother and sister. Precious time I will forever treasure.

At this time of year, I am also reminded of the things my mom and I did together. In late August and early September, we would process over 400 pounds of peaches and pears for the winter. Once the canning was done we would dedicate a full weekend and make up to 100 apple pies to distribute to everyone’s freezers. It was a wonderful time to prepare for the cold months ahead, but it was precious time we spent as mother and daughter. I can’t exactly replicate that with anyone else. I am nobody else’s daughter.

Think about the simple things you enjoy each day. Who do you share those moments with? If they are no longer with you, take some time to reflect on the feelings you had with them and enjoy the treasurable memory.

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