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Saturdays with Mom

A Weekly, Family Tradition

By Katherine SchaeferPublished 7 years ago 4 min read
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Our Saturday’s were always very regimented; even when I was a little girl. She would wake up every Saturday morning at 9 AM and make her way over to the coffee pot. She would grumble to herself and fumble with the coffee filters. We always bought Gevalia brand coffee, because it was bold but cheap. The coffee would slowly start brewing, and she would let out a sigh of relief. I think deep down my mother hated mornings more than she hated my father, but she acted like it didn’t bother her. She would then make her way over to the kitchen table where she would sit and crack the sliding glass door. No morning was complete without mom smoking a cigarette. She enjoyed smoking Marlboro Menthol Light Kings, those were her favorite. After her cigarette she would wash her hands and switch on the radio. It was not long before I too would wake up, and join her downstairs in the kitchen.

She was always so happy in the morning, but deep down I knew. I knew that her bones were brittle and aching. I knew that she hadn’t slept the night before. Sometimes I would slowly tip toe down the stairs just to see how she really was doing. Sometimes I would see her crying, or talking to herself. Other times I would watch her hobble around the house. The worst part about it was there was nothing I could do. For years she tried to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. My mom wanted me to have a normal childhood despite her being terminally ill. “We’re going to beat this disease, Kate,” she used to tell me. I just wanted to make it all better. I wanted to understand why my mother was plagued with a terminal illness. She was young and kind, and didn’t deserve this torture. At some point she would hear me come down the stairs and would quickly try to cover up the fact that she was in pain. She would offer me a cup of coffee, or ask if she should make a new pot. I never turned down a cup of coffee and would try and get it myself.

“Oh go sit down, I got it,” she would say. She was stubborn like that; everything had to be done on her own terms.

She would bring me a cup of coffee and would try and give me a kiss on the head. I’ve never been a fan of affection so I always shriveled up when she would do this. “We don’t hug enough Kate,” she would say. She was right; I was an asshole. I think my mom’s favorite part of the day was sitting down and talking to me.

“How are the kids?” She would ask. She would ask about my friends, school, and how work was going. She would let me vent about literally everything and anything. There would be some days when I would ramble on about the most ridiculous of things, but she didn’t care. More often than not, I would end up in tears because I hated high school and most of the places I worked. Again, she would dry my tears and give me some much needed advice. Her favorite lines were: “Well fuck him and the horse he rode in on” and “Who gives a damn about what these little bastards think of you.” She always made me laugh, she was so good at doing that. After our morning discussion we would prepare for a day of housework. I would clean the bathroom and the living room, while she took care of the rest.

Around five o'clock we would throw in the towel and prepare for a night of movies and relaxation. Most weekends my friends would come over and join us for the infamous “Schaefer movie night.”

Above all else, I loved these days with my mom. Now that she has passed, everything has changed. I can’t seem to get out of bed on Saturdays and making coffee is a struggle. Usually my roommate, Allen, makes me coffee in the morning because he is kind and genuine. However, the coffee he makes doesn’t taste like the coffee my mom used to make and it’s the same damn brand. Allen and I usually sit and talk on Saturday mornings because he works second shift during the week and I have early morning classes. It’s still not the same. The kitchen doesn’t smell like cigarettes, and we don’t spend hours on housework. Most Saturdays we don’t even sit down together to watch a movie because I’m busy or he’s tired. My friends from high school don’t come around, because I moved an hour and a half way from home. It just sucks; I now loathe Saturdays as a whole.

I want this post to be a lesson to every single person who reads it. I want you to spend as much time with your family as humanly possible because trust me one day you’re going to miss this. I want you to visit your family, drink coffee or tea with them, and talk about each other's days. I want you to be compassionate and kind. I want you to be able to hug your parents and accept their affection. Lastly, I want you to recognize their suffering and be there to support them before it’s too late. Although my mom has passed, I am still trying to make her proud every single day. Today, I started a fundraiser for the National Kidney Foundation; I plan on raising $3,000 in my mother’s memory. If you, or someone you know, is interested in donating please visit here.

Or search my name "Katherine Schaefer." My campaign is called "Kick Some Ass for Kris."

Thank you!

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About the Creator

Katherine Schaefer

Hi! My name is Katherine Schaefer, but please call me Kat. I a PR major at Bloomsburg University. I am a Campaign Intern for the United Way of Columbia and Montour County. I enjoy coffee, records, and spending time with my friends.

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