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Monday, October 3, 2016

A few words on coffee

I feel like National Coffee Day sneaks up on me every year.  Before I can prepare adequate words of adoration it's here and it's gone and I'm left silent.  Shouldn't Facebook give us some kind of warning?  "National Coffee Day is in one week"... "Tomorrow is National Coffee Day"...

I imagine coffee is feeling a bit used by me.  I drink it often and I mention it from time to time, but I rarely, if ever, take the time to express my true feelings.  It's not that I don't want to, or that the feelings aren't real, but some emotions run too deep to be put to words.  Some loves are too intense for mere sentences, haphazardly thrown together.

But try I must, and try I will.  I don't want to look back with regret, wishing I had said something while I had the chance.

Because, coffee, my life wouldn't be the same without you.  You make everything better.  Really, you do.  Don't believe me?  Have you ever seen me first thing in the morning?  Ever tried to talk to me?  It's not a pretty picture.  There's a good reason my husband's gone by the time I wake, why my children cower in their room until they hear the clink of my spoon against the porcelain mug.

You change me.  From the inside out.  Confusion and fury give way to sweet love in your warm embrace and I'm left different.  New.  This morning Finn came quietly down the stairs, which, without you, would just be too much for me to handle.  But with the heat of you in my hand I called to him endearingly, asked him to come for a snuggle.  He checked first, to make sure it was safe, but when he saw you snug in my palm he came running and I held him close.  Until I needed another sip and then I gently nudged him on his way.

Those first 30 minutes every morning are devoted to you.  If that's not proof enough of my deep affection, I don't know what is.  I wake up early to spend that time with you.  Earlier than I have to.  Can you even believe that?

And you don't just make me sweeter, you make me stronger.  You give me the kick I need to peel myself off the couch and engage in the various morning activities that, without you, would be too difficult to even consider.  Packing lunches.  Making breakfasts.  Clothes and teeth brushing and the occasional shower.  Of course you also make me a bit jumpy, and I can be just a little forceful as I attempt to shoo my children from the house.  But don't worry coffee.  I won't hold it against you.  No loves are perfect.  Ours is close, though.  Ours is very, very close.

By about 10 I'm starting to miss you and so I'll search and find you, no matter where I am.  Nothing can keep us apart.  Sad, dreary mornings turn warm and comforting in your presence, as if you can somehow change the very world around me.

I've heard some people say they don't like you, coffee.  I try to keep my mouth shut, but it hurts.  They just don't know you.  Not like I do.  If they really took the time to get acquainted, a cup of tea would dull in comparison.  But not everyone's as devoted to you as I am.  Not everyone sees what I see and we have to be alright with that.  I know, it's hard to trust these "tea drinkers," but some of them are okay, some I even like, so I guess we just have to let it go.  To each their own (even when they're wrong).

I guess what I'm trying to say is, thank you coffee.  For all you do for me, and indirectly for my husband and children and anyone else who might cross my path before noon.  You're one of the most beautiful things in the world to me (I have to say one of because people might find it weird if I think you're more beautiful than my children, which I am NOT saying I do).

So here's to many, many more happy mornings together.  And if you don't hear from me again for a while, all you have to do is look at my face when I first see you and you'll know, ours is a love meant to last.