Just brew it...

Every November in the social media world, it’s become a tradition to share thirty days of what you’re thankful for. Over the years I’ve dabbled in sharing mine, and truthfully, after the year we’ve had, it didn’t really dawn on me to sit and go on and on about how grateful I am about things. In the last few days though, we’ve all gotten yet another reminder of why we need to remain vigilant about living our lives, and yes, living with a grateful heart. So instead of spending too much time on fear, pain, or sadness, I’m going to spend my writing time sharing all the reasons I’m still grateful. 

This morning, I’m massively grateful for coffee. I know…you were expecting something far more deep for kickoff. But my boys have been sick the last few days and sleep has been nil; my alarm goes off at 5 am, so without said coffee, I’m pretty sure I’d be about as functional as a potato with limbs. I joke a lot about coffee being my best friend, and post lots of pictures of my morning cups, or afternoon pick-me-ups; but as silly as it sounds, coffee really has been a luxury that has gotten me through a lot. 

When I think of rough mornings at work in my younger years (or shitty afternoons) filled with quarterly reports, skeevy company owners, or nasty millionaire stock traders who could wipe their rears with my salary, not much was more comforting than a quick walk to Starbucks for an afternoon latte to escape. When I think of late nights and early mornings with babies, not much excited me more than a hot cup of sweet, sweet java. When Kenny was first diagnosed, I remember living with a medium cup of Dunkin in my hands every afternoon, as we discussed things like craniotomies, doctors, logistics, etc. That winter, as we adjusted to another new “normal,” every afternoon I drove the kids around until they fell asleep, stopped at the coffee drive-thru, and Kenny and I would catch up for an hour, watch Gossip Girl on the couch and get to feel “real normal” for just a moment. Like every other couple. Not the guy with the brain tumor and his harried wife. Coffee perked me up through a million scenarios like that; great days where we got to do things like everyone else, awful days where life was anything but similar to anyone else’s. Through some of the toughest months of my life earlier this year, that first cup was the only thing I looked forward to some days. Sound sad? Yeah…it was. Through healing mornings, pissed off mornings, mornings where I felt drowned by the newness of single motherhood…coffee, coffee, coffee. And when I finally started to get my act together and get the hang of life again? You guessed it. 

Over the years, time and again, grabbing a favorite cup of coffee has been like soul food to me. Something I can drink alone or with a friend. Something that makes me feel warm, and awake, and ready to face the toughest of days, or fuel the busiest of deliciously happy and normal days. It’s the one thing I always do for myself, no matter the circumstance. It’s not just something I drink because I love it (although I do), but because it’s part of my designated “me” time. Pedicures, reading books, writing, or hanging at the beach…you’ll find me with a cup of coffee. It feels indulgent and comforting; in fact, I set my alarm early every morning just to get some “alone” time while I enjoy a freshly brewed cup.  They say it’s the little things in life that make us happy, and I can certainly attest to that (I’m, of course, sipping some as I write, now). Today, and every day, I’m grateful for that magical bean.