There is Coffee

And there is coffee with a doughnut.

It would be hard to want more.

But there have been plenty of times in my life when coffee and a doughnut just led to yearning for something else or finding fault with what I had. Maybe someone was missing or the doughnut was stale or I’d used the last of the Half and Half and had to use powdered creamer, clots of which floated at the surface. Maybe I rued never drinking coffee in Paris or being toasted with champagne for my best-selling book.

Always, something missing A regret lurking or a little lost ache from years before. Not anymore.

I’ve grown out of that. It took until now – 75 years – to get here. Coffee or coffee with a doughnut is plenty fine. The view doesn’t hurt either.

9 Comments on “There is Coffee

  1. “It took until now – 75 years – to get here.”

    Girl, ain’t that the truth!

  2. Jan, a younger associate brought up the issue of “enemies lists”, and asked if I had one. I had to pause because I realized that at almost 77 I had outlasted them. I hadn’t given that any thought until he mentioned it. It felt kind of good until I realized that the same was pretty much true for my list of friends. That felt sad.

    • We get rid of a lot and once we stop thinking in terms of loss, it starts feeling like freedom. At least for me.

  3. Jan, I’ve been reading your words for a few years now. They’re always warmly simple, yet poignant, and always, always pointing to a greater truth about life or ourselves (or both). I, too, live in Milwaukee, and I ended up on the Street Angels site this week. Your pieces about working with them have reminded me of my time volunteering at a women’s shelter downtown years ago. It lit a little fire in me, and I came here to say thank you.

  4. Funny…Lilly and I just had the conversation yesterday about the “I wishes” and how we both need to work on appreciating the little things that always add up to the important things. It is a continuous learning opportunity for all of us.

  5. Jan – you said it ALL! (like you usually do) I am 83 and still “getting there.” What an amazing gift life is …

    • It is – sometimes a box full of wrong sizes and batteries that don’t work but other times pretty glorious.

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