Just One More Day

The Perfect Day with My Mother

     If I knew I had only one more day with my mother (who is 81 y/o and in poor health), I would not want to travel to a far away place or do something totally out of character for either of us.  It would be a day like any other day.  A day where every minute had meaning.  Every thing we saw, did or tasted would somehow be made that much sweeter.

     We'd start our day by going to her favorite restaurant (breakfast only) on Center Street in West Roxbury.  We would order the "Irish Breakfast" (something she is not supposed to eat anymore). We would take our time eating and talking over a nice cup of coffee.  We would enjoy every bite of breakfast.  Savoring the flavors that reminded us of the trip we took to Ireland years ago. 

     We would then go to a few of her favorite stores.  She loved to look for a bargain.  After a few hours of "poking around," we would take a ride to Denton Terrace (off Washington Street in Roslindale).  Back to her childhood home.  Her grandfather's house.  A place that held all of her happy childhood memories.  She loved to talk about Denton Terrace and her family.

     After visiting her childhood home, we would stop at the cemetery.  She likes to visit her family plot.  The plot where she will be buried.  It gives her comfort to know that she will soon be with her family once again.  She will be with her grandparents, her parents, and my brother Danny (who died when he was 4 years old).  Her beloved aunts and uncles are buried all around them.  She feels that once she's buried there, she will be back in the loving arms of her family - home again.

     We then take a leisurely ride down Turtle Pond Parkway.  We eventually end up in Norwood.  We go to dinner at her favorite Italian Restaurant (The Venice Cafe').  We order Veal Parmesan (another food she is not supposed to eat).  We would sit and talk about the family.  We'd laugh and linger for as long as possible.

     We would then drive back to Dedham (a town she has lived in for the past 63 years).  We would go to her favorite bookstore "The Blue Bunny."  She would pick out a couple of really good books for her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  She is an avid reader.  She has passed down her love of reading to me, her grandchildren and, now, her great-grandchildren.  I would then promise to mail them for her, but I would promise myself (inside) that I would hand deliver the books to my nephews, in Arizona, and my grand nieces, in Maine, personally. 

     Then we would walk across the street to the old "Movie House" in Dedham square.  We'd order popcorn with butter (another no no) and drink sodas.  We'd watch some off-beat movie and laugh until we cried.  We'd take our time leaving the theatre.  She'd tell me about the time she worked there when my oldest brother was just a baby and how the theatre hadn't changed.  It still looked the same as it did back then. 

     Finally, I would bring her home.  I'd stay for a while, lingering, not wanting the day to end.  I'd ask her if she wanted me to stay.  She would say, "No, we had a perfect day; let's leave it at that.  Go home to your family."  I'd say, "Okay Mom.  But, just so you know, I love you."  She'd say, "I know, I love you too."