I miss my mom. I used to push all the buttons just as she would walk down the aisle, a mischievous glint in my eye. Each time we visited the grocery store, I’d dash ahead, my small fingers dancing over the colorful buttons of the self-checkout machine. With each beep, she’d turn around, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “You little rascal! One day, you’re going to break it!” she’d say, shaking her head, but her smile would give her away. Those moments were filled with laughter and light, the kind of memories that could brighten even the dullest days.

Since her passing, the grocery store has become a hollow place for me. I walk through, the automatic doors sliding open with a soft whoosh, and I feel the weight of the emptiness settle in my chest. The shelves filled with brightly packaged goods seem to mock my solitude. I can still hear her voice, echoing in my mind, reminding me to pick up my favorite snacks or to try a new recipe. I wander through the aisles, my heart heavy, searching for a piece of her in every corner.

I remember how she would linger by the produce, inspecting the apples with care, always choosing the shiniest ones. “The best things in life are worth taking a moment to choose,” she would say, her hands gently brushing over the fruit. Now, I find myself standing there, staring at the apples, unable to choose. They all seem dull and lifeless without her touch.

The self-checkout machines are still there, their buttons waiting to be pressed, but they feel like a cruel reminder of what I’ve lost. I can’t bring myself to push them anymore. The last time I stood in front of one, the memories flooded back. I could almost hear her laughter, feel her presence beside me. But it was just a memory, fleeting and painful.

Every week, I return to the store, hoping that somehow it will feel different, that I’ll find a way to connect with her again. But the aisles remain unchanged, their fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like a persistent reminder of my loneliness. I see other families laughing and chatting, and I feel like an outsider looking in on a world that no longer includes me.

One evening, as I walked past the cereal aisle, I spotted a box of her favorite brand. It was decorated with bright colors and cheerful characters, a stark contrast to the heaviness in my heart. I hesitated for a moment, then reached out and grabbed it, a sudden rush of nostalgia washing over me. I could almost see her standing beside me, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Let’s get it! We can make our special breakfast tomorrow!” 

With the box cradled in my arms, I made my way to the checkout. I felt a warmth spreading through me, the kind of warmth that comes from cherished memories. But as I stood there, scanning the items and watching the screen flash numbers, I realized that I was alone. The laughter we shared, the spontaneous dance parties in the kitchen, all of it felt like a distant dream.

When I got home, I placed the box on the kitchen counter, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. I thought about making pancakes, just like we used to, the kitchen filled with the scent of vanilla and maple syrup. I reached for my phone to call her, to share the news, but my heart sank as reality set in. There would be no more calls, no more laughter echoing through the house.

That night, I sat in the dark, the box of cereal beside me, feeling the weight of my grief settle in. I poured myself a bowl, the sound of the cereal hitting the milk breaking the silence. As I took the first bite, tears streamed down my cheeks. Each crunch reminded me of the moments we had shared, and I felt an ache in my chest for the warmth of her presence.

“I miss you, Mom,” I whispered into the stillness of the room. “I wish I could press all the buttons just one more time, hear you laugh, feel your hand in mine.” 

But the buttons would remain untouched, just as the aisles of the grocery store would remain silent, a reflection of the emptiness I felt inside. And in that moment, I realized that while the world continued to move forward, I would always carry her with me, a bittersweet reminder of the love that once filled my life.

SURI CRUISE DITCHES MOM’S NYC MANSION FOR DORM LIFE – SEE THE STUNNING TRANSFORMATION IN PICS

Katie Holmes’ daughter, Suri Cruise, has recently taken a big step toward independence. After finishing high school, Suri moved out of her mother’s luxurious New York City apartment and into a college dorm room, where she is now sharing space with a roommate.

In 2014, Suri Cruise lived with her mother, Katie Holmes, in a rental apartment at the Chelsea Mercantile. By 2024, Suri had moved out to start college, leaving Katie as an empty nester. Suri is now settling into a college dorm, marking a new chapter in her life.

Katie and her daughter nearly moved to a different home in the Apthorp neighborhood of New York City. In 2014, Katie made a bid on a prewar apartment there. The Upper West Side home had four bedrooms and four bathrooms.

Katie Holmes’ financial advisors suggested that renting their high-rise luxury apartment was a better choice. Because of this advice, Katie and Suri decided to stay in their current apartment.

However, their living situation changed after Suri graduated from LaGuardia High School. Before she got her diploma, Suri enjoyed some time with her classmates on the streets of New York City on June 20, 2024, right before their high school prom.

Suri Cruise looked stunning in a patterned bodice-style gown for her prom. She accessorized with a black clutch bag, a pink rose corsage, and heels. Her prom date wore a dark blue suit, and they posed for pictures together.

Everyone was dressed up for the special event.

Later, footage showed Suri, who looks a lot like her mom Katie Holmes, celebrating with her classmates while wearing red graduation robes on June 21, 2024.

A friend posed for photos with Suri, while another friend stood nearby on the pavement as cars passed by.

Suri looked happy as she posed for pictures taken by her mom in New York City.

Suri Cruise didn’t waste any time starting college at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. On August 18, 2024, she was seen moving into her dorm with help from her mother, Katie Holmes. They looked happy as they carried luggage, marking an important milestone in Suri’s life.

Reports say that while Suri was settling into her dorm, her father was allegedly enjoying life in London. The mother-daughter duo was spotted carrying luggage to Suri’s new home on campus.

The university campus is impressive, with large open spaces, a tennis court, and areas for studying, research, and relaxation. It also has the Highmark Center for Health, Wellness, and Athletics, a modern wellness center.

Several restaurants on the Carnegie Mellon University campus offer a variety of foods. One of these is the Au Bon Pain Café bakery at Cohon Center. According to the university’s website, all the recipes are “uniquely crafted,” providing students with a range of delicious options.

Katie’s daughter, Suri, will have access to a variety of food and drink options on campus, including smoothies, sodas, cappuccinos, hot or iced coffee and teas, espresso drinks, pasta, soup, and croissants. She can also choose from a customized made-to-order breakfast or lunch sandwich or salad, or grab a pre-made salad, sandwich, wrap, yogurt parfait, fresh fruit, or snack.