Coffee

Coffee is one of my favorite things.  If I were to sing a song about my favorite things, I would always include coffee.  If I see a coffee cup on TV, empty or full, I want some. 

I get up out of bed in the morning slightly more quickly than I normally would because I know there is coffee waiting for me. 

Coffee in my hand, fire in front of me, dog by my feet are things that calm my spirit, prepare me for the day, and can relax me after a long day or a long week. 

I drink it black.  I used to drink it with a lot of sugary creamer.  The question, "Do you want some coffee with that creamer?" wouldn't be out of the question.  I weaned myself from sugary creamer to sugar and cream.  After MS took away dairy, I ventured into the almond milk arena and quickly ended up with black coffee.  I love that I drink it black.  I love that if someone has coffee, I don't ever have to worry about what creamer they have.  I can simply drink the coffee.

I didn't start drinking coffee until after my oldest daughter was born.  I'd only been enjoying it for about a year when I stopped while my youngest daughter was growing inside me.  My husband introduced it to me.  He introduced me to most things I do now that I never did before.  I hope I introduced him to a few new things also.  I don't drink it because it wakes me up, although it probably does.  I drink it because the warm black liquid calms me.  It makes me feel like I am taking a break in the middle of the most hectic day. 

Coffee reminds me of my grandma.  She always had coffee on.  She drank it all day.  She liked sharing it with others.  I can still see her grin as she offers me a cup and is thrilled that I am going to say, "yes."

Coffee is like my glue, band-aid, peace offering, security blanket and dessert.  It isn't liquid in a cup.  It is peace and friends and moments all wrapped up with porcelain.

I discovered coffee later in my life.  I'm thankful for it.  It was the first thing I wanted the morning after my surgery.  I called the hospital cafeteria to order my breakfast and ensured they had coffee.  The eggs and bacon were nice, but the coffee brought me home while sitting in the hospital bed.  It was how I survived each and every day of cancer, coffee and a notebook.  It was one of the tell tale signs that MS had come, the coffee tried to slip out of the side of my mouth.

I'm always looking for those special moments, those special tools that make my days peaceful.  Life is not full of peace.  Life is full of adventures, problems, unexpected disturbances, and surprises.  We have to find peace.  We have to seek it out.  We have to look under rocks, behind curtains and in the tops of the tallest trees.  We need it, but it will always hide.  When we find it, we must wrap both our hands around it, sip it slowly while enjoying the taste and the warmth fill our souls.