my father moved back in with us mot to long ago because he was having some trouble, and well in this big house we have plenty of room especially since my other roommate moved out. so as it stands we have my mother on the first floor, my father on the 3rd, and me stuck in the middle on the 2nd. it works at least for now. but back to the story now that i have the players set up....
my mother is not a coffee drinker because of a health problem but she loves the smell of it. but it was my father who gave me my love of it. i remember getting up in the morning getting ready for school (grumbling the entire time) and making my way downstairs to the kitchen. at that point i would no doubt run into my family, possibly for the only time that day. i could always smell the coffee coming down the stairs and i would move a little faster in anticipation. because i knew, waiting patiently on a counter, was my own little cup of coffee. i say little because, as this had been a morning ritual for as long as i could remember, my parents were trying not to stunt my growth anymore than they probably had. so in a little bugs bunny cup would be my bit of coffee liberally laced with enough cream and sugar to cut the bitterness to nil.
my mother would sigh as she saw me pick up the cup as much over her want to drink it as over my obvious addiction to it at such a young age. this had been going on since i was 6 and continued until i was 10 when they divorced and my father left the house. my father and i would just look at each other over the lips of our respective cups and smile with our eyes. during that time it was me and my dad whether or not mom was in the room. this was something that we could share, something that couldn't be bought. just both of us enjoying a simple little pleasure.
i had never been the typical little girl, running around playing with other girls, doing all the things that set us up for social life later in ours lives. i was the one, who even at that age, was off to the side of things, reading, watching, experiencing life in a different manner than my so called peers. early on i learned that since i saw life differently even if i wanted to join in all the games i would be excluded and ostracized for my differences. a freak was my title, and one i wear proudly still. but at that point in my life it would have been nice to have been included every once in a while.
so while this was going on with the so called peers, i was making a bond with those older than i. my parents would have friends over and they would sit around having fun, joking around, doing the things that i do now (well somewhat ;>). and i would be there, playing the gopher, learning how to mix drinks at an early age so the adults didn't have to be bothered (which has come in handy over the years), making myself useful so i could stay in the room and listen to them. i think i scared/worried them when i would laugh at jokes that they thought i didn't understand due to my delicate age, so they would ask if i understood what was said. i would explain the innuendos to them, much to their amazement.
of course, by the time they thought to ask me if i understood what was said they were usually a bit tipsy and more than a little high, which at that point they still sent me out of the room for. why i am not sure since they had gotten me high for many years already. i suppose they didn't want me going and telling all my 'friends' or adults. so when they asked me if i understood and i explained that i did, they were in no disposition to remember it the next day. but over the years they finally caught on.
so here i was, excluded from children my age, not yet really allowed to the realm of adults and wandering my own little path of self-enlightenment. i didn't share much with anyone because well frankly the only ones who might understand didn't want to listen for fear of finding a kindred spirit in one so young. which i understand. so to be sharing something so simple yet extraordinary as enjoying a cup of coffee with someone who shaped my life as much as my father did, was a gift beyond any imagination.
in later years my father and i would grow apart, mainly when i discovered boys. my parents thought they had lucked out when i liked girls first (after they got over their shock). but alas, hormones kicked in, and boys became an option. i suppose he was just dealing with the fact that i wouldn't always be just his little girl. but for a long time he and i couldn't be the friends we had once been. and i suppose we still aren't those same friends and never will be again. our relationship has changed. there are things in my life that will never be talked about and thats ok. he and i have realized that on some level we will always be a daddy and his little girl. but i am now trying to forge a life of my own that only nominally includes him until i am set in my life. but we are both patient. and we always have coffee.
as i look back over this entry, i realize that this is not just about coffee. it is also about my father. i realize how much he put into my life and i am amazed. my father isn't the smartest man i know, but he has taught me many great things. and i love him for it.
so all of you out there, go enjoy a cup of coffee with someone and realize what a wonderful experience you are having.
i think i need another cup ;)