Mom and Ice Cream
On days when Mom was feeling feisty and playful she'd gleefully suggest we go to Baskin Robins for ice cream. It was such a "just us" treat, a bit giddy and certainly celebratory.
We'd be talking excitedly about some new idea or a crochet project and she'd point at me with her ice cream cone or spoon for emphasis and laugh.
Then at some point she'd say "You little shit!" We'd laugh till we could hardly breathe.
I miss that.
Often when I think of mom I see her, pointing her ice cream spoon at me and laughing with me. It feels like a scene from 6 Feet Under. It's comforting.
We'd be talking excitedly about some new idea or a crochet project and she'd point at me with her ice cream cone or spoon for emphasis and laugh.
Then at some point she'd say "You little shit!" We'd laugh till we could hardly breathe.
I miss that.
Often when I think of mom I see her, pointing her ice cream spoon at me and laughing with me. It feels like a scene from 6 Feet Under. It's comforting.