We were sitting around a small table at my mom’s favorite spot, Cupz and Crepes, when something hit me.
It was just the five of us: Pete, Rosie, Michael, Nicole, and me. No spouses. No kids. Just my family. The original crew.
I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
Maybe we were teenagers. Maybe even younger. Life has pulled us in different directions—different states, different time zones, different seasons of life. I live in Arizona now. Michael’s in New Jersey.
Mike and Nicole had flown in for Mason’s Confirmation into the Catholic Church. Mike landed just after 1 AM on Friday morning, and Nicole arrived around 10 AM. I picked them both up from the airport and, honestly, I was exhausted. I was up way past my bedtime picking up Mike and barely slept as a result. All I wanted was a nap. I wasn’t even hungry. But Mom wanted crepes, and I wanted to go for her. I’m glad I did.
And just like that, we slipped right back into our old rhythm.
We weren’t parents or professionals or grown-ups juggling too much. It was just us. We were laughing, teasing, and sharing stories. The kind of laughter that bubbles up from your chest and spills out before you even realize what you’re laughing at.
It was just brunch. But it wasn’t.
It was the breakfast of a lifetime.
My mom was glowing. She loves crepes, and she loves Cupz and Crepes even more because she’s good friends with Teri, the owner. We were in her happy place, and all of us were there with her.
The restaurant buzzed around us, but I barely noticed. I kept looking around the table, trying to lock it in. The voices, the energy, the feeling.
Then, as my dad paid the bill, just like he always does, I caught myself wondering:
Will this ever happen again?
I hope so. I really do. But if it doesn’t, I had this one meal. This one photo. This one moment that reminded me who we are when everything else falls away.
Life moves fast. It pulls us in every direction. But sometimes, if we’re lucky, it brings us back to where it all began.