Coffee

         Ah, coffee. One definition could read, “Liquid relaxation served in a cup or mug.”

          Most of us have tasted it. For some, the bitter brew left a longing for an ice-cold cola. But for the rest of us, coffee became our mainstay to sanity.

          What memories does coffee awaken with its fresh-brewed aroma? A quiet sunrise accompanied by a steaming mug and a donut? Or the relief of a cup at work on a much-needed coffee break? Maybe an after-dinner coffee sipped while reading?

          When I think of coffee, I don’t smell it or taste a certain flavor. I don’t hear the percolator or feel warmth radiating into my bones. When I think of coffee, I think of people.

          Through sharing hundreds of cups during my coffee-drinking career, I’ve seen tears, heard tales, joined in laughter. Memories swirl: my husband bringing a cup just when I needed it most, my dad surprising my mom and me with a pot of decaf, my brother’s knack for making the best coffee around, which I can’t do even mimicking his every move.IMG_0022 - Copy

          Maybe you think of one specific person whenever coffee is mentioned. For me, that’s my grandmother.

          Oh, it wasn’t the coffee itself, though she did brew a good cup. Nor the adored china teacups we used. I recall the stories. My grandmother was a storyteller. Allow me to share one of my favorites.

          My grandmother fell in love with a set of dishes on sale at Bowman’s Department Store and hinted at my grandfather about her upcoming birthday. As it approached, she knew she’d receive the treasured dishes. Sure enough, on her birthday, a Bowman’s truck pulled up to the curb. She raced to the door and yanked it open. There stood the delivery man, smiling and handing her two brand-new clothes props. (People used these to “prop up” the clothesline to keep drying clothing from touching the ground.) Snatching them with a huff, she planned the attack for my grandfather when he returned home.

          As she walked away, the bell rang a second time. She reopened the door to see the same delivery man, this time bearing a box containing the coveted dishes.

          Coffee and love became synonymous when I saw my grandmother’s smile as she remembered this tale. Over the years, she shared pieces of her life through stories told over a hundred cups of coffee. Invite someone to share a cup of love with you today!

 ***I’d love to read your coffee-cup tale! To leave your story, click on the words beside the date under the title of this post. Then, scroll to the bottom of the comment section to find the box with the heading, “Leave a reply.” Thank you for sharing!

 *** Stop by next Monday to read how a pink poodle bank and a $5 bill saved a young couple!