What I Miss

I miss how you never understood that the word “junk” didn’t have a plural. You’d say something like “I need to clean up these junks.” Thinking about it now makes me smile. But it also makes me sad because I’ll never hear you say that again.

I miss the messages you used to leave on my machine. Your accent combined with the awkwardness you felt when speaking to an answering machine were pure comedy gold. “Bih Jeh….. eet’s me. Eeet’s yurr Mum.” I used to smile and say “Yeah, no shit. How many people do I know talk that way?” I used to gather my co-workers in my cube so they could hear one of your adorable yet unintentionally hilarious messages. I wish I’d thought to tape one of them, because now I’ll never hear one ever again.

I miss walking out into the cold with you. You’d react to the cold blast of air the same way every single time. You’d jam your hands into your pockets, snuggle inward and say in Polish, “Oh how cold!” I can still hear you say it, as clear as day.

I miss your blueberry pierogi. I miss your homemade applesauce and crepes. I miss the apple pancakes you used to make for breakfast. I miss the way you did scrambled eggs with bacon pieces inside. I can’t seem to cook any of these things.

I miss the way you’d fill me in on all the family gossip, whether I wanted to hear it or not.

But most of all, Mom, I just miss you.