Good afternoon! I am thrilled you dropped by for coffee. I am brewing a fresh pot of hazelnut coffee for us. Don’t you just love the aroma? I hope you find the flavor is to your liking. If not, I have other options.

It’s a lovely afternoon with summery breezes and scents of flowers and budding trees. Perfect for chatting while sitting on the back porch, don’t you agree?

I’m so glad you’re here. It has been awhile and I think of you often. Hey mom, do you remember?

When I was a child, I was pretty mild and not too wild. I was your little girl with a head full of curls. My dresses were frilly, I never felt silly.  Shoes galore, I always wanted more. We dressed to the nines, you and me. Our sense of style was for all to see. Oh yes mom, we had a passion for fashion!

When I was a teen, I was pretty mild and not too wild. I was your best friend and you were mine. We figured life out, time after time. I had to be cool and you understood. Much more than any mother could. We dressed to the nines, you and me. Our sense of style was our identity. Oh yes mom, fashion became our passion!

When I was a young woman, I was pretty mild and not too wild. If I needed comfort, you were always there. Such a loving mother, I knew you cared. When you were sad, I felt bad. If you were blue, I was there for you. Yes, we dressed as ladies because we should and because we could. Back in the day, that was the way.

When I was twenty-three, you were gone. I felt the world had done me wrong. Why an end to your melody?  It wasn’t time to end your song. Your image still lingers in my memory. Yes, our passion for fashion was meant to be. And mom I must say, you look lovely today.  I miss you so, in every way.

If we were having coffee, this is the way it would be. A memorable chat, just you and me.



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Categories: Challenges, Memories

Tags: , , , ,

45 replies

  1. Eugenia, your mother and her goodness and sense of style will always be alive in you. Lovely remembrance of a lovely woman. Clare


  2. Lovely tribute to your mother. Sorry you didn’t have her here with you longer. You have sweet memories to keep her in your heart.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Lovely memories of your mother to cherish.

    Liked by 1 person

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  5. Oh your post tugged at my heartstrings. Maybe it hit a spot as I’m in a bit of a melancholy mood after turning 40 this year..

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Beautiful and I would like to say also, great minds – yesterday I wrote out a poem for my dad to be published on Father’s Day next month, so I can really relate to this. It is truly sad that you lost your mum at such a young age, I was just 36 when my dad died suddenly and I miss him every day. She sounds a lovely mum. I send you a virtual hug and thank you for allowing us to have a glimpse into such a personal relationship. 💕💐

    Liked by 1 person

  7. A lovely remembrance. Lucky you to have had such a wonderful relationship with your Mom.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I love this tribute to your mother. It was beautiful!

    Liked by 1 person

  9. This is amazing and so lovely! touching!!! xxxxx

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Oh this is such a beautiful tribute Eugenia. You mother must have been a delightful lady. I love this remembrance.


  11. You have inspired me to write about my youth, but think your youth and mine will be viewed very differently. Delightful piece.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Beautifully written, what sweet memories ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  13. I marked the like but it didn’t seem enough. Marvelous poem with memories of your mother. Love the in context rhyme.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. What a sweet remembrance of your mother . Surely a very special lady .
    Turtle Hugs

    Liked by 1 person

  15. This will be an inspiring piece for me to think positively about my own mother’s presence when the time comes. Thanks.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Nice post. My mom passed away when I was 22, so this resonates with me.

    Liked by 1 person

  17. I always enjoy your coffee!

    Liked by 1 person


  1. A Friend and Sweet Soul called Eugenia. | a cooking pot and twistedtales

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