The thing with losing someone who was very fond of coffee is that coffee reminds you of them and the fact that they’re not around to enjoy it any more.

And the thing with that is that coffee is fairly ubiquitous, so you end up having every day frequently punctuated by a coffee-scented sense of bittersweet remembrance.

I tried to escape by only drinking bad coffee, but then I felt guilty about not drinking good coffee while I’m alive and able to enjoy it, as if I’m being watched over by a gentle but slightly disapproving ghost.

So I drink good coffee and I enjoy good coffee, but of course it’s not just good coffee any more because there’s always the knowing that the coffee would be so much better if he were here, and the feeling that possibly I’m not getting as much out of the coffee as he would, that I should try harder, and possibly try harder to just enjoy the coffee as it is, without getting distracted by a dear absent friend.


5 thoughts on “Coffee

  1. Drink then and remmber him. I think you think too much but I think you know that. I have found out about the death of a freind this week. Its odd, I am lucky to have got to my age without a loss yet, I cant get my head around how life just goes on, only I will never run into here again. Hope you enjoy your good coffee Xx

  2. Pingback: Blossom | Explosions in Slow Motion

  3. Pingback: So. | Explosions in Slow Motion

  4. Pingback: No time at all | Explosions in Slow Motion

  5. Pingback: Here | Explosions in Slow Motion

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s