And this makes me feel like such a waste of space. Shouldn't I be doing something? Doesn't this mean I'm weak? Worthless? It's been a week of nothing. Of heating pads and hot liquids. I haven't even been able to do any decent writing thanks to the headaches. I'm making no contribution to the world. I just sit here. I sit here and wish I were doing something else...
...like drinking something with caffeine. Since I'm trying to boost my immune system, I've only been drinking non-caffeinated echinacea tea that reeks of licorice. Echinacea tea. For a week.
So, naturally, I've been thinking about one of my favorite things... coffee...
~~~
I remember mornings on the second floor porch. She would call and, whether or not I had made myself beautiful, I would drive over. We would sit in low beach chairs, behind the plants she used to cover the railing. She would smoke and we would drink Turkish coffee. The Illy juices tanned in the sun and we would talk... or not... she told me in the beginning of our friendship, "If you want to be a plant, be a plant. You don't have to say anything. Just be a beautiful, American flower. You can be that here."
~~~
There were two special coffees at B&N... the old one in Newport News. The first was a first, a very first, with a 17 year old boy who would only drink Earl Grey tea. I had a stupid mocha (this was before I was a barista... now I know better) and hardly said a word. Despite this high school timidity, I knew that night that this would be someone who would help to shape many of the parts of me I will always respect. Just by knowing each other and being together, we would cultivate some of the foundation of our selves. The second was sad, very sad. A dear friend, who might as well have been my brother held my hand, barely could lift his cup, and tearfully told me things he couldn't tell anyone else. I just sat there, lightly tapped the top of his hand with my thumb, and listened. This talk over mass produced white ceramic mugs made it clear to me that I was useful for something. Something pretty great.
~~~
Thursdays are sacred days. I have my time with my person. She makes amazing coffee. We sit on opposite sides of the couch, and we relax into ourselves. We keep each other's secrets. Her warm living room folds around us and, for a little while, the world is okay. It doesn't matter if we need to say a lot or very little. We get it. Just drink your coffee and stop worrying.
~~~
I don't usually like my mother's coffee... but on our fall trips to the mountains, it makes the sun come up. In the mountains, I'm someplace that gives me peace, that resonates with my spirit and quiets my mind. My whole immediate family is with me. Maybe my brothers are sleeping, maybe Daddy is reading something, and Wendy might be trying to dig a hole into the couch. Mom and I look out the window and count the colors. We lose track. We're just together.
~~~
After a somewhat stressful trip to New York City, I woke up. Unless I'm in the mountains surrounded by my family, mornings are not my time of day. When I sleep in a hotel room, however, it's harder for me to stay asleep. All those different sounds. Different smells. It was the last day of the trip. Time to go home. Before heading out, we decided to take a walk and we found an outdoor café. It was summer. The air was cool and warm at the same time. It was a disgustingly perfect sky that talented people have surely painted once or twice before. We were the dorky two people grinning and sipping cappuccinos in the cheesy black and white photograph of a greeting card in which only we were in color.
~~~
Coffee is the quick catch up that keeps some of my most prized friendships intact and up to date. In between the working, assignments, relationships, moving, what have you, we make a little time to order a real macchiato and chat. I do a lot of constructive nothing with my favorite people...
...people who have reminded me of the material that makes me who I am. I can imagine all of my perfect cups of coffee every time I smell the earthy caramel in my cup... and I don't need to be anywhere.
Though I have sat here for days feeling like a beetle on its back, I never stop. Nothing in my head, my heart, stops. I didn't do anything productive all those coffee breaks ago, not in the form of tangible paper evidence or tasks on a list being completed. I comforted my friends, bonded with loved ones, found solace in the effort of others to make time for me. And while I sit here, needing to consider something more pleasant, I can think of all those I love and those that have loved me. That feeling comforts me while I rest rather than rush. It feels like I am exactly where I need to be at this moment.
I am looking forward to soon having another cup of coffee...
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