Coffee Culture

Coffee Culture.

I remember waking up as a kid and the aroma filled the air getting stronger as I made my way into the kitchen to sit down. My Mother had already been up for an hour or so and on the second pot of coffee. She drank it black.

As she poured another mug full (there were no little coffee cups in our house, cups were for tea) she came and sat down with me. We would talk about what was going on for the day. The content of our dialogue changed over the years from 'can Annie come over?' to 'can I borrow the car' to 'Mom, I am going to get my own apartment.' Every so often she would ask if I wanted some. Every so often I would try some. I would whiten it with milk and load it with sugar and I could barely get a mouthful down. How did she drink that stuff? In fact, I can honestly say I don't remember her drinking much of anything else, besides a glass of red wine now and again.

"Wait until you have kids, then you'll need the coffee to keep up." She would say. "I didn't start drinking coffee until I had my second child."

I managed to make it through high school and college without becoming a coffee drinker. I moved out, got a job, got married and had a child and still, no coffee. I did enjoy the smell but I could not stomach the taste. It's bitter tones made me shake when I would swallow it. It was disgusting.

In 1992, I lost my Mom. She had stopped by one evening after her and my Father had gone out for dinner. I asked if she wanted a cup of coffee. Knowing full well my coffee making skills lacked, she opted out and took a glass of wine instead. A few hours later she had passed. I would never be able to have a cup of coffee with her actually came into my mind. I hadn't learned to like it fast enough and now my chances of having that moment were gone.

Well, time passes, like it does, and more kids are born. I don't know whether it was an intervention from the beyond or it was in my subconscious, but once my second child was born something possessed me to try coffee again, for the first time.

I opted for a 'regular with milk' from Tim Horton's to be my official first time. The warmth of the first sip shocked me at first but there was no bitterness that I had experienced when I was younger. Each luscious sip left a lasting taste in my mouth, but this time I loved it. The after effects of the caffeine buzz were welcome when looking after a 4 year old and a 1-year-old toddler, both boys. I had energy again to play and run and dance with them. I was hooked. This liquid gold was truly magical and now I could finally understand the love affair my Mother had with her coffee pot.

Another child came along and although I opted for tea when pregnant, I couldn't wait to get back to my 2 cup a day habit. I no longer take it with sugar but still can't take it black like my Mother had.

Every morning before everyone is up, I am. I make the pot of coffee as a first order of the day. I have had all the same discussions with my 3 kids over the same cup of coffee that I had with my Mother. The coffee may have helped me stay awake when they were younger or kept me going when working a long day, but it really has done more than those things. This nectar of the Gods has been a constant for as long as I can remember; a constant that has bound my past to my present to my future.