Dad made coffee every day. He had a collection of coffee mugs—mostly Father’s day type mugs “Best Dad” “I Love My Grandpa”, but he had his favorite, the BIG Starbucks mug that seemed to hold half a pot of coffee. I remember I would find that half-full mug everywhere around the house. He always offered me a cup, and I usually turned it down as I rushed out of the house and made my way through the Starbucks drive-thru. On the occasions I did take him up on his offer, we would sit at the table and talk about life. I didn’t realize those would be the moments I would miss the most. It was the little moments that matter the most; that I miss the most and I wish I could have back again.
Now a days, I find myself standing in that same spot every morning and on most weekends making a second cup of coffee and then misplacing it somewhere around the house while I’m cleaning. I can’t help but smile and think of dad when I find my half-full mug in the most random places.
My morning coffee routine didn’t really start out as a coffee addiction, although I can’t seem to start a day without it, but after dad died I decided to keep his morning routine going.  I found that space to be calming it’s what I call dad’s sacred space, right there in my kitchen where he stood every morning. In that space he would inhale the hopes of the day and exhale away the mistakes and regrets of yesterday, it was a space where he prepared not just a cup of coffee, but where prepared himself for the day ahead and where he would invite me in. Dad’s routine was just a mundane routine when my life was so busy and fast and the little things were not important enough to notice or accept his invitation often enough.
What I have learned to embrace and cherish is that sweet spot of time and space when the house is quiet and the kids are asleep and all you can hear is the percolating sound of the coffee. I stand there in that sacred space, and I swear I feel daddy. I’ll close my eyes and I can feel his hand on my shoulder or just his presence in the room. I’ll inhale the hopes of the day and exhale the mistakes and regrets of yesterday and I’ll take a minute to be thankful for all the little things, the little moments I was too busy to notice before, right there in our sacred space.