I’ve come to accept that coffee means something different to me than it does to Tom. That first cup is not just something to drink with breakfast, it’s a way of greeting the morning with a quiet re-entry, a gentle jolt of energy to get me started, and warm companion to keep me company as I get ready. I remember when I was growing up, Mommy used to make a big pot and drink it throughout her day, absent-mindedly leaving behind a trail of cooling, half-sipped mugs as she went about her chores.
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