I held the straw to her mouth as she took small sips. “No,” I answered. “Were they good words?” I asked, needing a bit of pleasant news for a change.
She told me how on that fateful Monday morning after Coop had slept over that he was in an exceptionally cheery mood and bounded into the kitchen to convince her to make him a big breakfast like she usually did on Sundays despite knowing it was Monday.
“Of course I could never say no to that boy,” she pointed out. “He even told me not to wake you because you had a hard day of work ahead of you. Cooper was always looking out for you,” she added, no doubt understanding his caring nature.
She continued the story by saying that she made his breakfast even though it wasn’t Sunday because his happiness that morning was contagious and she was curious as to why he was so excited. “I couldn’t stifle the boy’s glee. Certainly not the first thing in the morning,” she interjected.
I wondered if Cooper had revealed something to her that morning after the kiss we’d shared the night before. “Did he tell you why he was so happy?” I asked, nervously setting her plastic cup of water on the side table and diverting my eyes. “You know, Coop,” I added, filling the pause with a nervous observation. “Always a ray of sunshine and happy to share his business.”
“All he said was that he felt a big dream of his was coming true.”
“He actually said that?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Did he say what this big dream of his was?”
“He did not. He licked his plate clean of crumbs and rinsed it off in the sink before giving me a hug.”
“That was it?” I asked. “Nothing else?” I pushed. “No clue regarding this goal or dream of his?”
Mom didn’t answer so I let it go. She tugged at her gown and stared out the window. “What is the date honey? Not the day but the actual date?” she asked without turning back toward me.
“The twenty-fifth, Mom.”
“Hmm,” she mused after taking note of the date. She turned back to meand tapped the side of her head. “I just remembered that he said something beautiful to me before he left,” she began, getting back to the story.
I perked up immediately.
“When he got to the backdoor, he hesitated for a moment before turning back and thanking me for the terrificSundaybreakfast. I reminded him that it was Monday.”
“Lemme guess,” I interrupted. “He told you that‘every day is like Sunday’,right?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, he did. How’d you know that?”
I smiled at her and the memory of his favorite saying.
“And then he left,” she finished, giving me a suspicious look, her eyes narrowing before she smiled in a way that told me she’d been right about something. “So, you’ve heard that line before?” Mom asked.
“Yes, I have,” I admitted. “It was his way of saying everything was perfect in the world.”
“It’s a wonderful expression, don’t you think?” she asked. “So very much like Cooper to express his cheerfulness that way.”
“He adored you, Mom. Did you know that?”
“Of course, I knew that, son. He came into existence on the exact day that my own son did. Not a coincidence in my opinion,” she stated. “You two are star twins, but that story is for another day,” she added.
I reached for and held her hand. “His last words to me were written in a letter, Mom,” I whispered hoarsely, struggling with my emotions. “The last words he’d written were identical to the last words he spoke to you.”
“That explains why you were so angry that his funeral was on a Sunday, wasn’t it?” she inquired.
“Cooper loved Sundays, Mom, and holding his funeral that day ruined everything in my mind.”
“I never saw the connection until now, honey. Every one of your Sundays since came with an entirely different meaning, didn’t they?” she asked.
I looked away and fought the tears threatening my vision. “I hate them,” I confessed.
“This coming Sunday is the 30th,” she reminded me.
