‘I’m not going to drink coffee when I’m older’ a young naive child once thought as she got her mother the millionth cup of coffee (or so it seemed that many). Pitch black coffee in a cup along with two scoops of sugar and some creamer. Stir round and round until a light caramel color over takes the dark and french vanilla fills the air. Just like the way the young girl’s mother enjoyed her coffee.
Every morning, the young child’s mother would scurry across the street to the neighbors house to sit with the neighbor and sip their cup of joe while letting off steam in the brisk dessert air.
This was my childhood. My mom and my best friend’s mom became best friends (more like family, now that its been about 19 years). I hated getting my mom coffee (sorry mom if you’re reading this). I didn’t like coffee and I didn’t understand why she likes coffee, until recently.
Now I find myself, sitting on the porch with my cup of coffee enjoying the brisk country air while the world slowly awakes. Birds chirping, worms slithering away and here I sit observing the pure innocent nature around me. Its the little reminders I find throughout my time during house arrest that life is still beautiful.
Look up from your phone every once in a while. Break away from the social norms and find a blissful moment. Who knows you may even remember a childhood memory like I did.
‘Til next time