Mom and Coke, the Real Thing.

[sentso]

We all remember Mom’s dedication to Coke. I remember stories of her going wedding dress shopping and leaving a bottle of Coke in the car, and even though it was scorching hot out, when she got back in the Mustang, the first thing she did was take a swig of now beyond warm, Coke. I remember the story of her and Dad going through McDonald’s to get a Coke after their wedding and the wedding procession of cars following through the lot. Coke was a part of my childhood. It was the drink of choice at every family gathering. To this day, I still drink it. There isn’t anything quite like ice cold Coke on a wretchedly hot and humid day. It’s an anchor back to a simpler time, and in that fraction of a second when it hits the tongue it takes me back to that time, when everything was right in the world. Friendships, family, closeness, good times. It’s iconic that way. It’s a touchstone.

When Coke tried and failed miserably with “New Coke” only to replace it with “Coke Classic” which used corn syrup instead of sugar, she wrote her second letter to the Coca Cola company (the first saying New Coke was disgusting and she only hoped that the person responsible be fired and never hold a job again), this time saying she was going to be a Sprite drinker from then on. While still in the Coca Cola family, Sprite was not a drink she had loved for so many years, only to have it changed - twice - on her.

I was able to find some Coke made in Mexico which still uses sugar. This weekend I’m heading down to Ohio for a short visit. I’m leaving that bottle of “her Coke” beside her grave.

This one’s on me, Mom.