Morning Coffee — The Last Ride.

There are times in ones life, when going home is all about visiting relatives. Then there are times when, going home is all about taking what is left of life back with you.

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026

August 19, 2026

There are some journeys in life you know you will remember every mile of.

This morning, Steve and I are carrying my mother home. She will be going to see her daughter Twila.

Her name is Marjorie Bernice Groff, and after 95 years of living, loving, raising a family, making mistakes, making memories, and leaving pieces of herself in all of us, she is taking one final ride from Arizona to Oklahoma.

_{^{[Left to Right: Marjorie Bernice (McWhirter) Groff, with her parents G.W.(Bill) McWhirter, and Bernice Mae McWhirter}}]

And we’re not hurrying.

Her special carrier is safely buckled beside our trustworthy little traveling companion, Otis. He has been given an important assignment for this trip: protect Grandma.

I have no doubt he takes the responsibility seriously.

We will cross Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, and finally enter Oklahoma. Along the way, when there is something worth seeing, we’ll make sure Mom gets to see it. An overlook, a beautiful stretch of country, an unusual roadside attraction—whatever catches our attention.

After all, when you’re taking your mother on her last road trip, there is no reason to rush.

Maybe that sounds a little unusual to some people. But grief has taught me that ceremony doesn’t always have to happen inside a church or beside a grave. Sometimes ceremony is simply two people, a little dog, an open highway, and someone precious riding beside you.

Tonight, we will reach Elk City, Oklahoma.

That seems especially fitting.

It was there, in 1982, that Steve and I first met. More than four decades later, the two of us will arrive there together carrying my mother home.

Life has a strange way of bringing roads back around to where they began.

So this morning’s coffee is going into a travel mug.

There are miles ahead of us.

Mom has one last Oklahoma sunset waiting for her.

And Otis has Grandma to protect.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com