A Pause for Mom

She reached for her new travel mug, sleek and warm in her hands. Inside, a cappuccino sachet waited patiently—her favorite kind, the one with that soft, creamy foam that made her feel like she was stealing a moment in a tiny café in Rome.

From the cupboard, she grabbed the rusk, golden and crisp. She didn’t sit at the table today. She took her mug and her rusk to the balcony, where the sun was just starting to warm the tiles.

And for ten quiet minutes—ten whole minutes—she dipped, sipped, and stared at the sky.

It wasn’t a spa day. It wasn’t a getaway.

But it was a pause.

And it was hers.