An old post from this summer. I was discussing this with someone yesterday and realized I miss writing about things other than what school requires. Summer goal: get back in to actually blogging (not just photos). Thank goodness I’ll actually have time!
From Summer 2011—
The other day I was talking to someone about how we’re all presumably addicted to caffeine and how we need to cut back, not only because too much caffeine can be bad for our health, but because it functions like any other addiction—our life starts to revolve around it and we cannot function without it. After some contemplating, I came to the following conclusion: coffee has served as a way to bring me and the ones I love together for as long as I can remember.
I recall when I was really little—my mom says I was probably around two—I wanted to be just like “Grandpa Bud,” because he was an infamous coffee drinker and he meant the world to me. Everyone always made jokes about him and his obscenely strong “jet fuel” and how he went through about two giant Stanley thermoses a day. I remember sitting at their kitchen table with “coffee milk”—the only way you can get a two year old to drink coffee is to copiously dilute it with milk. I would drink it every day with him when I went over to my grandparents’ house, and ever since it has served a very important purpose in our family.
Now, every time I come home to visit my parents, the thing I look forward to the most is waking up really early so we all have time to have a few cups of coffee together before we all go our separate ways for the day. It’s where I have so many fond memories; where my family and I have our most memorable discussions. This tradition has extended to my new friendships, as well—there’s nothing I value more than good conversation with great people over a steaming hot cup of coffee. It can be a way to welcome people into my home, a way for me to have a quiet moment with myself, or a way to go out and meet new people.
As I was thinking, I also noticed it’s a way we can show people we care. This is a little trick I learned from my dad. Every day he wakes up earlier than my mom to put on a pot of coffee so she has a fresh cup when she wakes up. And then he brings it to her in the bathroom while she gets ready for work. Every single day.
I decided that it’s actually a blessing that my life has come to nearly revolve around this seemingly unimportant, commonplace drink because it’s served as a medium to spend time with the people that mean the most to me. I don’t anticipate this changing anytime soon, either, so I suppose I don’t really have any hope of curing my addiction. Coffee and I will continue our love affair far into the future, and I’m fairly certain it’s nothing but good for the health of my soul :)