I miss my mom. I used to push all the buttons just as she would walk down the aisle, a mischievous glint in my eye. Each time we visited the grocery store, I’d dash ahead, my small fingers dancing over the colorful buttons of the self-checkout machine. With each beep, she’d turn around, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “You little rascal! One day, you’re going to break it!” she’d say, shaking her head, but her smile would give her away. Those moments were filled with laughter and light, the kind of memories that could brighten even the dullest days.
Since her passing, the grocery store has become a hollow place for me. I walk through, the automatic doors sliding open with a soft whoosh, and I feel the weight of the emptiness settle in my chest. The shelves filled with brightly packaged goods seem to mock my solitude. I can still hear her voice, echoing in my mind, reminding me to pick up my favorite snacks or to try a new recipe. I wander through the aisles, my heart heavy, searching for a piece of her in every corner.
I remember how she would linger by the produce, inspecting the apples with care, always choosing the shiniest ones. “The best things in life are worth taking a moment to choose,” she would say, her hands gently brushing over the fruit. Now, I find myself standing there, staring at the apples, unable to choose. They all seem dull and lifeless without her touch.
The self-checkout machines are still there, their buttons waiting to be pressed, but they feel like a cruel reminder of what I’ve lost. I can’t bring myself to push them anymore. The last time I stood in front of one, the memories flooded back. I could almost hear her laughter, feel her presence beside me. But it was just a memory, fleeting and painful.
Every week, I return to the store, hoping that somehow it will feel different, that I’ll find a way to connect with her again. But the aisles remain unchanged, their fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like a persistent reminder of my loneliness. I see other families laughing and chatting, and I feel like an outsider looking in on a world that no longer includes me.
One evening, as I walked past the cereal aisle, I spotted a box of her favorite brand. It was decorated with bright colors and cheerful characters, a stark contrast to the heaviness in my heart. I hesitated for a moment, then reached out and grabbed it, a sudden rush of nostalgia washing over me. I could almost see her standing beside me, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Let’s get it! We can make our special breakfast tomorrow!”
With the box cradled in my arms, I made my way to the checkout. I felt a warmth spreading through me, the kind of warmth that comes from cherished memories. But as I stood there, scanning the items and watching the screen flash numbers, I realized that I was alone. The laughter we shared, the spontaneous dance parties in the kitchen, all of it felt like a distant dream.
When I got home, I placed the box on the kitchen counter, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. I thought about making pancakes, just like we used to, the kitchen filled with the scent of vanilla and maple syrup. I reached for my phone to call her, to share the news, but my heart sank as reality set in. There would be no more calls, no more laughter echoing through the house.
That night, I sat in the dark, the box of cereal beside me, feeling the weight of my grief settle in. I poured myself a bowl, the sound of the cereal hitting the milk breaking the silence. As I took the first bite, tears streamed down my cheeks. Each crunch reminded me of the moments we had shared, and I felt an ache in my chest for the warmth of her presence.
“I miss you, Mom,” I whispered into the stillness of the room. “I wish I could press all the buttons just one more time, hear you laugh, feel your hand in mine.”
But the buttons would remain untouched, just as the aisles of the grocery store would remain silent, a reflection of the emptiness I felt inside. And in that moment, I realized that while the world continued to move forward, I would always carry her with me, a bittersweet reminder of the love that once filled my life.
Соасh gоеs virаl оnlinе fоr this оnе асt during kids’ bаskеtbаll gаmе
Teachers are some of the most important people in our community, and yet they are one of the most undervalued.
It takes a special person to dedicate their life to educate others, serve as role models, give advice, and mentor the younger generations.
We often hear about how teachers have gone above and beyond to help others and, more specifically, the children in their care.
One such hero is Jonathan Oliver – a phys-ed teacher at WG Nunn Elementary in Valdosta, Georgia – who was recognized for his kind act towards a kindergartener while coaching a basketball game.
After one of his students came to him for assistance, he was only more than happy to help her.
When one of the kindergarteners on Oliver’s basketball team, Kristen Paulk, asked him to help tie her hair back in a ponytail, the coach sprang into action.
Taking a knee on a basketball to get down to little Kristen’s level, Oliver appeared concentrated as he worked on tying her braids back away from her face. Though, unbeknownst to him, he was being recorded.
In fact, Kandice Anderson, another teacher at the elementary school, filmed the coach’s sweet gesture — eventually posting it on YouTube, where he received heartfelt support from the public.
The title of the viral video read: “When your job goes beyond teaching!”
The footage eventually made its way to Good Morning America, who contacted the 34-year-old dad-of-three for an interview.
“It was sh.ocking to me that it got that much attention because we all do it,” Oliver Good Morning America, adding that he didn’t realize he was being filmed.
“We [teachers] want to make them feel likе they’re at home and that they enjoy being here,” he added. “We try to love on them as much as possible. To me, it was just a ponytail.”
The caring coach told the outlet that Kristen had asked him for help with putting a ponytail in her hair during a basketball game, but that his expertise sadly does not extend beyond that – even though he often helps with styling his daughter’s hair.
“It was a good thing she asked for a ponytail. Anything else, I’d say, ‘You better ask your mom,’” he joked.
Kristen’s mom, Miyah Cleckley, told the outlet that the video really touched her, saying: “I always know that Kristen is in very good hands with him. I thought it was really cute because her father he does their hair a lot. We have five girls and one son so when I’m working he has to pick up the weight of doing their hair.”
This story is just one of many stories about teacher’s going above and beyond for their students. They truly are heroes!
What did you think of this sweet story? Let us know in the comments!
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