Wednesday, May 21, 2014

When Flowers Bloom

So Does Faith...

At least that's what my coffee mug says this morning.  I rarely drink coffee and when I do it's decaf.  I've always enjoyed the taste of coffee... I've never really consumed it for the caffeine boost.  TJ loved coffee.  Knowing what I know now about the body, I know he needed it to function because of his complete tapping out of resources and qi.  It makes me a little bit sad to make that connection now instead of just being able to reminisce about how the house would smell when he'd brew an entire 12 cup pot for himself, how thick and black his coffee would be and how he'd always stir it counter clockwise.

I woke up this morning with the notion that I'd like to partake in a cup, just a small one so I didn't get the caffeine crazies.  I pulled out my smallest mug and filled it 3/4 of the way up, added my sugar and cream, stirred it counter-clockwise (I've gotten myself in that habit on purpose over the years) and went to sit.  When I indulge in things I don't normally do, I make sure to sit still and do nothing else but that one thing.  As I had the first sip it tasted so warm and a little bit bitter.  My first thought was to add more sugar and then I let that idea go... TJ mostly drank his black and loved the bitter taste of coffee.  As I focused my attention on the taste of bitterness and how it felt in my body as I drank, I started crying.  Isn't it mysterious that the act of sipping coffee can bring on such grief?

Holding the mug with both hands, I sat there and cried.  I held that little cup so firmly, like it was the only anchor I had to keep me from rocketing off into some other place.  Sometimes I simply cannot believe that TJ died.  There are no other thoughts, just emptiness.  And yet, I'm so glad I poured that cup.  When I bring TJ into my life through something, an object, an activity, that something is blessed.  And so, this morning, I had the best cup of coffee I've ever had.

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