No place like home

I made it home – all 2,200+ miles in four and a half days. My home, my cats, my messiness never looked so good! After unloading the car, I stretched out on the couch as if to rest. But, with adrenalin still pumping, I couldn’t relax. Instead, I began unpacking, looking for homes for the stuff I brought from Mom and Dad’s apartment, sometimes asking myself “What was I thinking?” when I unpacked an item that seemed to have no value – real or sentimental.

One of the things I unpacked most carefully was Momma’s coffee maker. Making the perfect cup of coffee was as much a ritual for her as a Japanese tea ceremony. I feel honored to have learned it from her and even more honored to be able to use her coffee-making tools. It’s not some antiquated piece of equipment passed down through generations, but a very 21st-century Cuisinart machine, which I promise to take care of and use just as Momma taught me.

As I write this, I’m finishing my second cup of perfect coffee.

Sue