BREWED AWAKENINGS AND OTHER SIGNS OF TRUE LOVE

I had a little cry in my vehicle the other day. 

I was in the parking lot, about to head in to a meeting with my financial planner, excited to talk about how I was going to make good things happen so I could live a life that kept moving me forward. I had a few minutes to spare and my Facebook messenger pinged a notification. I saw it was from a friend who always makes a point to share a laugh and a smile with funny jokes and memes.

I opened it and saw the picture above. And I smiled. And then I cried.

My Favourite Husband (MFH) was not a coffee drinker. It baffles me: how can some people function without caffeine coursing through their veins is beyond my comprehension. But MFH did … and I digress.

Years ago, MFH decided we should go camping. Camping? I work for an airline. Why would we drive and camp when we can fly? His logic was solid. We can explore places we wouldn’t be able to flying: camping in the mountains; camping in the Okanagan; camping, one day, on the Pacific Coast. It all sounded appealing but I wasn’t convinced. I told him I was too old to sleep on the ground and too old to crawl out of a tent and look for a place to pee in the middle of the night. Besides, I would get stuck doing the cooking and the cleaning and that wasn’t my idea of a holiday.

MFH was smart, though, and had a rebuttal prepared: we would buy a trailer! And he would do the cooking — all of it. Bathroom solved, sleeping solved and he was an excellent cook! I was close to caving — really close — when he whispered the magic words that made me say yes:

“I’ll make your coffee every morning and bring you a cup in bed."

This, from a man who doesn’t drink coffee. So, 'yes' left my lips and the next day, a trailer was in our driveway. 

Our first camping trip was to Jasper and the spot couldn’t have been better. It was beautiful: in the mountains, tall pines allowing both the shade and the sun to touch our campsite. Birds chirping and the smell of the outdoors helping to make it magical.

We pulled into our site in the afternoon and, true to his word, MFH prepared an excellent meal.

We went to bed at a decent hour and had a great night sleep.

Fast forward to the next morning. 

MFH had purchased a stovetop percolator. He knew I liked strong coffee but had no idea on how many scoops of grounds he should be putting in. I had no idea either because I haven’t used a percolator for years. He added what he thought was a good amount and the making of the coffee began. He told me to stay in bed as he wanted to serve me the first cup there, as promised.

Once he had it brewed he came to the bed, cup in hand and the true test happened.

I sipped, looked up at him and told him the truth: “It’s absolutely perfect."

I have no idea how a man who didn’t drink coffee nailed it but he did. And I drink my coffee black, so there’s no hiding the strength or taste with cream or sugar.

It was something so small to him and so big to me and I couldn’t have loved him more in that moment.

We had a lot more camping adventures and, a year down the road, we traded in our first tiny trailer for one with a bit more room. Camping was something I looked forward to and something that I loved because we spent time together exploring without any distractions.

When MFH went into renal failure and then on dialysis, our camping time halted because we needed to be close to a hospital. He talked about selling the trailer but I talked him into keeping it, positive he’d be getting a transplant and our retirement would include more adventures.

It did not happen.

I sold the trailer this spring. I didn’t want to learn to tow it and it had too many memories — all good — that would envelope me every time I stepped foot in it. 

It was hard letting it go but it was time another family made beautiful memories in it.

As I cleaned out the things that were left in it, I came across the coffee pot. I’m planning on donating most of the cookware but that coffee pot, I’m holding onto for good.

As I finished my cry and got out of my vehicle, I realized that my tears had been tears of gratitude and of good memories for all that I had, and not tears of sadness for what I would no longer have. And that gave my heart peace.

❤️