Cocoa With Cory

Years back, when Tim and I separated, I went through a two weekends long, sun up to sun down, manic sort of house cleaning and reorganization.  I think in the back of my mind I was trying to create whatever order I could for the kids out of the emotional chaos they were in with the major changes to their family situation.  And if I'm being honest, I was trying some sort of exorcism to get all those bad and hurt feelings from my failing marriage out of my immediate environment.  And I took great pleasure in rearranging things the way I wanted them without having to confer with anyone. 


Cory and I stormed the stores together for storage tubs, comfy throw pillows, candles, and the like.  One of the little treasures we picked up was a snowflake serving tray with matching coffee mugs.  We set up a little hot cocoa station on a corner of the kitchen counter.


When Tim begin taking Jake for overnight or weekend visits, Cory was devastated to learn she was not included.  I was naturally furious with Tim, and tried to talk to him about it, but he was having none of it.  Instead, Cory and I spent every weekend Jake was gone as if we were having a 48 hour slumber party.  We'd run errands by day, have a dinner for two full of laughter, and then collapse in front of a movie.  Cuddled up at each end with our new fuzzy afghan, Cory would more often than not, sit up suddenly, "Hot chocolate?"


This was always a fantastic idea, not only because we were hooked on cocoa, but also because I'd had to turn the furnace down to save on the heat bill with money being not what it once was.  I would jump up, and we'd run to the kitchen together to fill the teapot, and chatter while we filled the cups.  Everything arranged prettily on our special tray-often with a smattering of cookies right in the middle- we'd return to our movie or show.  Life was good.


Sitting there, sipping cocoa with my teenage daughter, I gazed at the tray, and realized after all these years, we were still playing together.  Our tea parties had become cocoa parties, and it was a beautiful thing.


After the accident, immediately following and still to this day, I've harbored a lot of bad feelings toward Tim for hurting Cory, for not wanting her, for making her feel she wasn't worthy of his time and attention.  There may always be these feelings.  You can forgive, but you can't forget.  One thing I have thought about is this:


Lucky, lucky me to be granted all those happy hours and days with my girl!  Maybe it was meant to be that it happened that way so I could enjoy every possible moment with her before the accident.  If Tim had taken on the weekend, I'd have missed getting the chance to read her an entire novel one long Saturday day and night.  I'd have missed running out in the middle of the night for lobster so we could make seafood pasta just because it sounded good. 


I haven't used our special cocoa tray since she's been gone.
But I think I might.  I will set out two cups, close my eyes as I sip, and go back in time.
That sounds like a great ritual.