i started drinking coffee when i was ten years old. my mother never liked the idea. looking back, i now realize how horrible she must have felt for seeing her ten-year-old daughter obsessed with coffee.
she lectured me about the effects of coffee on our bodies and how bad it could be. (of course, again, i know that now.) she even used to joke about me not getting taller if i didn’t stop consuming coffee. (of course, again, i think she was right all along.) there was nothing my mom could do at that time, though.
and i am not talking about blended coffees which we can now get at some fancy coffee shops. no, not your usual Starbucks caramel macchiato, white mocha, or cafe latte. i don’t remember having Starbucks growing up. it wasn’t a thing then. i meant the black espresso, a single shot with no sugar.
coffee time with my papa was always special. i’d watched him brew coffee using one of the oldest, simplest, fastest, and cheapest ways: the drip method. with the use coffee cone and paper filter, hot water is poured evenly over the coffee grounds in a paper filter. and with gravity, the brewed coffee drips slowly and directly into a cup or pot.
i’d carefully and slowly watch the coffee drip onto the transparent coffee mug my papa and i used to share.
it was a sight to behold. one of my greatest joys growing up.
coffee time with my papa was always special; today, it is extra special.
i am seated at my working table, finishing writing the epilogue of my soon-to-be-released book, remembering my papa.
my coffee is now ready, single-shot espresso, no sugar. as i take my first sip, i feel a sudden gust of wind.
my papa’s voice lingers in my head.
“one day, when you are grown up, and i will be gone, you will prepare your coffee drip; remember that each drip is each of my standing ovation for you, ‘cos i am sure by then, you have already made your dreams come true.”
written for Reena’s Exploration Challenge
This week’s prompt challenge is a short video: