coffee

I can't believe I'm writing this post. You must know this. On the second Christmas Andy and I were married, I gave him a coffee maker. I attached a heartfelt note to the handle. It read:

Only for use in the basement.

His smile revealed that this was indeed the best gift ever. For over two years he didn't brew coffee in our home. I detested the smell. Others thought I was awful for placing such a stipulation on a Christmas gift. Andy thought I was wonderful.

Sometimes I attempted to make him coffee. I failed miserably. At some point, the coffee maker made it to the kitchen, although it wasn't allowed to remain out on the counter, it was allowed to brew coffee in the kitchen. Little by little I learned to tolerate the smell, and eventually I even liked it a little.

Then I began writing my first book, I was drinking too much Pepsi to stay awake to complete my portion each week. It was too much soda. I mentioned it to Andy.

He said, "I can make you a cup of coffee you would like."

The challenge was on the table. I lifted an eyebrow, "You think so?"

"I know so."

Like usual, he was right. I finished the book and missed the coffee. I started drinking decaf at night. Andy smiled, "You've converted."

"Kind of," I said. "There's still no way I'll drink it black."

"Someday," he said.

Now, the coffee pot has its own spot on the kitchen counter. The kids have all learned how to prepare coffee for the next morning. I go to sleep looking forward to a cup of coffee in the morning, and I get up and push the button so it begins brewing before I even turn on the lights.

Hannah prepares it to go for me in the morning. Sam calls himself "Coffee Boy" and carries my cup out to the car every morning. How did this happen?

I think it's part of living. We change. Things we never thought we'd like, become the very things that bring the most joy. Things we thought we'd never do, become required parts of our daily routine. It can be something insignificant like coffee, but it's bigger things too.

For me, I was never going to marry that Ayres boy. I was never going to live in the town where I live. I was never-not-ever going to adopt again.

"Let's quit saying we're not going to do stuff," Andy said.

I sip my perfect cup of coffee and nod in agreement.