Coffee with Mom

If you ask someone what their favorite thing to do at the Disneyland Resort is, they will inevitably answer with some attraction like Star Tours, the Matterhorn, Haunted Mansion, or maybe even the Tea Cups—and that’s if they just stay in the Magic Kingdom without hopping over to California Adventure. Some might even answer with their favorite restaurant or a parade.

Me? My favorite thing to do at the Disneyland Resort has, for long time, been to sit in the Starbucks at California Adventure with my mom, drink a Frappuccino, and split a piece of banana bread as we watch the people go by. It might not sound like much, but people-watching was something that we had always enjoyed doing together and, despite the often-frantic atmosphere, the old-fashioned décor of the Starbucks at California Adventure often calmed us before we went out into the fray to try and get all those attractions that we wanted to get done.

Now, I’ll never get to do my favorite thing at the Disneyland Resort again.

It’s not because they closed that Starbucks. As far as I know, they haven’t.

It’s not because Starbucks stopped serving Frappuccinos and banana bread. As far as I know, they haven’t.

It’s not because I can’t go back to Disneyland. As far as I know, I’ll be able to go back there…someday.

It’s because my mother died in July 2025.

I will never again get to sit in a booth or at the window counter with her and watch the people passing by, wondering what it would be like to live down in SoCal and do something like that almost every day. I will never again get to split a piece of banana bread with her because it’s too big for either of us to eat on our own. I will never again get to have coffee with my mom.

It’s been hard, getting through this past year. I live with my dad for economic reasons, but I am glad now that I live with him for other reasons. We support each other as we come to realize just how big an impact her loss has had on us. We knew that the big things would be difficult: holidays, anniversaries, her birthday, and so on. However, it has actually been the little things that have had the biggest impact on us.

No more seeing her daily.

No more being able to text her at a moment’s notice.

No more looking over to the couch to see her lying there.

No more being able to talk to her about my problems.

No more leaning on my best friend.

People always think about how the big things are going to affect those who are grieving, but when it comes to the daily things, the little things, hardly a thought is given. They’re just…ignored. Or forgotten. No one wants to think about how those who are grieving are doing it not just when the holidays and anniversaries come around but every day of their lives, no matter how much time has passed. So, often, the grieving get forgotten, as though they should be normal in the day-to-day until these big events come up.

That is just not the case.

If there is anything that I can say observing my dad grieve over the past year and experiencing my own grieving process in that same time, it’s that grief has no calendar. It does not fade into the woodwork just because a certain date passes. It pops up at any time because, in truth, it’s the little things that we miss the most. That’s why we break down at a random song, a random word, a random memory—it’s the little things that we cannot live without. The big events we will eventually learn to adjust to because we have to, but the little things make up our everyday lives, and those can be harder to adjust.