Here I go again on the road, like a business woman drifter I was born to drink coffee. I just didn’t know for about the first 20 years of my life. As I continue to celebrate my mom’s celestial birthday, I thin about the role of coffee in her life and how it can to be a part of mine. Every morning I would wake up and make her coffee in that tin press. She loved the coffee dark and strong. I made it thus just for her. It was the least that I could do considering all that she did for me day in and day out. She needed coffee. If by 9am she did not have a cup of joe, she would get intense headaches. I did not like the taste of coffee for it was to bitter for me and I rather enjoyed sugary things. I didn’t drink coffee until I needed it for my dissertation. I still did not like it’s taste but my sleepy eyes needed a midnight jolt. Then I discovered lattes and tasty syrups. Now, everyday begins with a cup of coffee. very different from that of mother’s but the coffee is now in my bloodstream.
Recently, I had a delicious meal that I of course photographed. Who doesn’t do this nowadays? It was meat, plus more meat, plus savory mustard and a heaping mound of ginger. My mom was scared of ginger. She had heard all sorts of scary things about how it impacted women’s bodies. I ended up loving ginger to her horror. As I ate this meal, I chuckled a bit at it s simplicity and how it would cause extreme terror. Such a simple meal caused me to miss my mom even more.
Just a cup of Java and a side of ginger evoked past memories and instilled a further longing for the warmth of a mother.