Of course, coffee is a source of happiness. It wires the mind and wakes the soul. I’ve been a fond lover of coffee for years and years.
I love how coffee can bring people together. I love the smell. I love the taste. I love the variety. However, the most important thing about coffee is how it makes me remember my grandma. Now SHE, She was a coffee lover.
Every morning I’d wake up and there was that familiar smell. I’d wake up just because of that smell. And when I moved in with my aunt at the age of five, I missed it. The smell of coffee, knowing that my grandma wouldn’t do anything else until she finished the last drops of the pot, it was home.
That’s what every cup of coffee makes me think of. Sitting at home or in a small local coffee shop, is cozy enough to remind me of those simple pleasures of watching tv in the kitchen with her.
She loved the bold roasts. It didn’t matter what brand, Starbucks, local, foldgers, it was coffee and it only mattered how well it was brewed. I think because of her, it’s why I hope every barista who brews coffee appreciates the craft and where it comes from.
It’s why I’ve always wanted to be a barista. Of course not career-wise but as a hobby. I want that feeling of home again. I want to make a cup of coffee in the morning and pretend I’m making it for my grandma.
I guess, I really miss my grandma currently. I have a cup of coffee in hand. I’m snuggled up in a blanket. I’m splendidly typing out this post fondly remembering.
It’s amazing what coffee can do. I’m thankful for the connotation of it. Happiness. Warm. Remembrance.
I miss you, Granny.