Memories Cost More

I get it now

when I was a kid
my Mum used to spoil me
- still does!
I’m “her baby”
the youngest of four

but it wasn’t
extravagance
with which
she would spoil me
- although granted,
she always went a bit nuts
at Christmas
and played her own part
encouraging
a credit crunch

but
it wasn’t extravagance
more
like
simple treats
experiences
that taught me
how to side step stress

how to observe and appreciate
the basic pleasures
that are all too often
camouflaged
by the mundane foliage
of timetabled restraint

going to a cafe for instance
a hot choc
or slice of cake
just
to get that feeling
of
silence

not literal of course
more a silence
of the heart

the kind
that makes you smile
as you sit next to someone
you love

someone
who doesn’t pressure
to talk

I know now
she didn’t always have
the money

and there would have surely been
cheaper options at home
in the cake tin

as I’m sitting here now
is this Bergamasco cafe
watching the waitress run
listening to the rain
pound the world
outside
I sip my treat

and understand why
memories cost more

and that I’m not alone
in this thought

in fact
just along the leather couch
a boy of about eight
cuddles
the warm side of his Mother

both of them
wrapped in silence
enjoying it
while they can