Saturday mornings are my favorite because it’s the one day each week that I don’t work. If I have my way, it starts with our family going to morning prayers at church, then over to our favorite coffee spot. I expect more from that first cup of the day. The flavor should be complex, and interesting, with tasting notes that provide an intricate trail of clues about the coffee beans. Things like the coffee’s country of origin, the elevation where it was grown, and other subtle indications such as the methods used to harvest, wash, and dry the coffee beans. The most discerning palate may even have the skill to identify how the beans were roasted, and the method and temperature by which it was brewed.
I don’t know much about any of those things but I do know that the coffee served in places where people do is much better.
I drink it hot and black because I want to enjoy the flavor of a good coffee. Ana also enjoys a cup of hot and black, but she has been known to involve herself in some of the more festive coffee-house concoctions that tend to be a mouthful to order.
This morning she had one of each. She also had a slice of something that can only be described as an epicurean delight so rare and so delightfully delicious, that the concept of sharing even the tiniest crumb entirely abandoned me.
And then we talked.
Our kids were playing chess and drawing in their notebooks across from the big and puffy man-eating couch where Ana and I sat. We talked about grown-up things not related to work or family. We cracked a joke or two and laughed out loud. Nothing that needed solving was invited and so time was spent, in love, enjoying each other uninterrupted. It was a rare thing as parents know, and it was incredible. I felt myself falling in love again, and I wanted to hold her hand and spend a lifetime there.
But in time the coffee cups ran dry, and the last few crumbs were pressed onto fingertips then ravaged by eager lips, and our stay came to a close.
We did other things, and it was a wonderful day, but this morning was so special, so wonderful and so pure it will carry me through my week, dreaming of next Saturday.
I’ve learned in my years, that it’s moments filled with those you love that you remember and yearn for the most. It’s not piles of money, career accomplishments, or goals achieved. Every one of those things comes with a brief celebration followed by some level of desire to reach the next milestone and then the next.
These pure and uncluttered moments with those we love are the things that never lose their impact and tend to increase in value the more time passes.
Work is necessary and valuable, but lasting riches that no one can take from you come by investing time in relationships with those you love and love you.
