My earliest memories of coffee stem from my Grandma Mahar’s house.  Always a fresh pot brewing, Grandma was glad to share a cup.  She had nine children and twenty-six grandchildren, so someone was bound to stop by for a visit.  Visit is the key word, because in our family, drinking coffee meant conversations around the kitchen table.


Several years ago I realized coffee for me equates to a comfort food due to this strong childhood connection.  Not only does it provide literal warmth, it also provides fond memories of growing up in a family that talked, listened, argued, disagreed, and loved, often over a cup of coffee.

Today getting coffee is a common social convention.  Whether it’s friends visiting, a nervous first date, a job interview, each may be witnessed at the local coffee shop on any given day. Some may consider the practice routine or mundane.  As for me, an invitation to coffee is neither.  It’s an invitation to talk, laugh, maybe even cry-enjoying the time our paths are allowed to cross.


Fancy or Plain

Black or With Cream

Home or Coffee Shop

Makes no difference to me


Warmth and Comfort

Friendship and Family

Laughter and Memories

More than it appears to be

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