Oh how I miss going to Cracker Barrel with the fam. While waiting, wandering around the country store with my mom, picking out random trinkets for whoever has the next birthday. Sitting down at a homey table and ordering thick, warm slices of French toast with freshly-made blueberry syrup spread on top and with a light dusting of powdered sugar.
How I miss waking up to the smell of my mom's waffles pulling me to the kitchen. Fighting with my brother over who gets the Peter Pan peanut butter and honey first, probably losing, and then spreading it on top, and gobbling them up.
Oh Dad, how I miss sipping a morning latte with you out of my favorite funky black and white mug we got on our trip to Spain and chatting over your not too thin and not too thick banana crepes.
How I miss going with the fam in the morning to a southern mom and pop diner. Eating a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit. The buttery biscuit falling apart in my mouth, the crispy bacon melting into the cheddar cheese and the egg holding it all together perfectly.
Oh how I miss making blueberry pancakes for my smiling grandma. When just enough bubbles have risen to the top, trying to expertly flip them over in her cast-iron frying pan. Sitting next to her, savoring and listening avidly to stories of days long ago
How I miss after a morning run with with my mom, getting a glass bowl from my parent's cupboard and pouring in just enough crunchy granola with raisins. Then decorating it with thick and creamy, strawberry cheesecake Yoplait yogurt. And topping it with bananas and blueberries before mixing it in a frenzy and scarfing down the delectable masterpiece.
Oh how I want to be part of those breakfasts the bring us all together again. But how blessed I am to have something precious to miss.
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