I think it’s been five years since Kathy and I spent a day together in Columbia. We’ve been together regularly during the intervening years, including some meetings in Columbia, but always with other family members. In May, Kathy invited me for a mother-daughter day in Columbia again, and it was wonderful to have nearly 11 hours of each other’s exclusive company. Including family members is a good thing, but so is one-on-one time.

Over the years of our “Columbia Days,” we’ve established a routine for our get-togethers. Columbia is a halfway point for each of us, and we meet at the intersection of our routes–US 63 and I-70. There’s a Bob Evans restaurant at the intersection, where we begin our time together with lunch. The restaurant is not usually crowded, so we eat and talk for about two hours before heading to downtown Columbia.

The next part of the routine is to walk Broadway, the main street through the downtown area, stopping at our three favorite stores: Blue Stem, Peace Nook, and The Candy Factory. Blue Stem offers a variety of unique and beautiful artistic creations made by Missouri artists. Peace Nook is an eclectic store that reminds me of the 1960s and 70s, describing itself as “a non-profit store . . . with all proceeds supporting our educational work to promote peace, social justice, sustainability, and a liveable climate.” The Candy Factory crafts gourmet chocolates and other candies. We sometimes buy something at Blue Stem; we always buy something at Peace Nook; and we always buy our specific chocolate favorites (and sometimes others) at The Candy Factory.

After our time downtown (usually late afternoon), we head for the mall food court where we purchase beverages and eat some of our chocolates while we talk for several hours. Then it’s time for a late dinner at Shakespeare’s Pizza, where we eat and talk for a few more hours before going home.

The real purpose (and my treasure) of our mother-daughter day is our personal conversations. It’s always hard to leave for home after our Columbia Day, knowing that this special day is over, but we each face a 90-minute drive, so we reluctantly go back to Bob Evans (where we’ve left one car for the day), get into our cars, and go home. Until next time, . . . .