I try, at least once a week, to FaceTime my parents. I could say it's because I don't want them to worry about me... but the fact is, it's so that I won't worry about them, and so I don't ever find myself suddenly past the breaking point of homesickness.
Also, it's nice to be reminded where all my eccentricities come from. (They're genetic, like my freckles.)
Mom and I will text each other on Saturday or Sunday morning, "Wanna have coffee?" We'll settle on a time and snuggle into our bathrobes (these calls have a strict dress code of pajamas and bed-head) and chat until our cups are empty and our hearts are full again.
I'm waiting to have one such call right now.
I love my morning coffee chats with my mother. She's still ushering me forward into the scary world of adulthood-- I suspect it'll be her task for much longer than either she or I realized. Right now we're talking about career choices and house hunting and financial planning and how challenging husbands and puppies can be, but in time we'll be talking about babies and pregnancies and retirement and health and exercise and diet and all the other things I can see twinkling on the horizon of The Rest of Our Lives. None of it is too scary or overwhelming when I know I have such a good guide beside me, even if she's thousands of miles away.
In the meantime, I'll choose my coffee cup and shrug into my bathrobe and eat a couple See's peppermint twists (a balanced breakfast, you know). When it comes to coffee cups, my attitude is simple: they're like hugs, you can never have too many. And I love that I have one for every mood. Right now, hanging out on my coffee bar are these choice chalices, the best of the best.
For when I'm feeling wise or bookish:
For when I'm feeling pretty:
For when I'm feeling sassy:
For when I need a reminder I'm not alone:
For when I want to match the special cup I got my mom:
What does your Saturday morning coffee cup look like?