A Day in the Life of Mom

If you spent just one day with my mom, Linda, you’d understand why she meant so much to all of us. A day with her wasn’t just a collection of moments—it was a masterclass in love, patience, and making life better for everyone around her.

Morning Routine

Every morning, without fail, Mom would be up before the rest of us. I’d walk into the kitchen and there she’d be, humming along to the radio with a cup of her favorite Dunkin’ coffee—medium black, no sugar, just how she liked it. The mornings were quiet, and she cherished that time to herself before the chaos of the day started. But even in those moments of peace, she was thinking of us, planning our day, getting ready to make everything run smoothly. Before I headed out the door, she’d always say the same thing: “Don’t forget to check your oil!” She knew me better than I knew myself.

Midday Adventures

By midday, she was usually juggling a million things—whether it was running errands, meeting up with friends, or checking in on my grandmother. But one of the things I loved most was our grocery trips to Piggly Wiggly. We’d walk the aisles, chatting about everything from what we’d have for dinner to what was going on in our lives. She’d always slip an extra treat in the cart when she thought I wasn’t looking, something small but thoughtful—her way of showing love.

Even on the busiest days, she’d make time to tend to her garden. That was her little sanctuary. Her roses were her pride and joy, and watching her care for them was like watching someone take care of their soul. “You can’t rush nature,” she’d say as she worked, trimming branches and whispering to the flowers like they were old friends. It’s where she found her peace, and in those quiet moments, she taught me the importance of patience and care—not just for plants, but for people too.

Evening Rituals

Evenings with Mom were the best. After a long day, we’d sit down for dinner, something she’d whipped up with seemingly no effort. Her famous chicken and dumplings—it was everyone’s favorite. And if you were lucky, she’d let you help in the kitchen, though she always had a way of making you think you did more work than you actually did. Around the dinner table, we’d talk about our day, and she’d listen with that knowing smile, chiming in with just the right words when you needed advice.

But my favorite part of the evening was when we’d sit together afterward, just the two of us, watching whatever was on TV—usually a rerun of one of her favorite crime dramas. We didn’t always talk much during those times, but it didn’t matter. Just being there with her was enough. She had a way of making even the quiet moments feel like they were filled with meaning.

Closing

If you spent a day with my mom, you’d know that her love wasn’t in the big, flashy gestures. It was in the everyday—how she made sure you had your favorite meal, how she’d slip a little extra money into your hand “just in case,” and how she remembered the small things about everyone she cared for. It’s those little things, those everyday rituals, that I’ll miss the most.

Mom, you filled our days with love and warmth, and even though you’re not physically here anymore, every morning coffee, every grocery trip, every quiet evening on the couch—I’ll feel you in all of those moments. Thank you for making each day with you a day worth remembering.