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My granddad’s Coffee Cup
I just realize how hard it’s going to be for me to forget about my granddad’s coffee cup. Whenever I remember my childhood it’s impossible not to feel the smell of coffee getting into my nose and opening a big reminder of how my life was and still is. Each time I woke up the smell was there, he was there, my granddad, sitting around the big coffee table in the middle of the kitchen; my grandmother was complaining while she was making it, she wanted my granddad to understand how bad it was for his health but the funny thing occurred every time I got up and opened up my door: she was right in front of him handing over his coffee cup, telling him the same single thing as it has been for at least the past ten years and by the time it started to sound like a broken record to me, almost like a song, a beautiful song that made me feel home. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened inside his mind because good or bad he was always smiling at her just like a secret code between two lovers; maybe he liked my grandmother’s voice, and I don’t blame him because after all, they have been together for almost forty years, and I truly believe that only the strong ones can stand by each other’s side; or maybe he was just laughing at my grandma’s attempt to keeping him safe. I don't know and I don't think I ever will because only he knew it and so did she. My granddad was al ready sick by the time his coffee fetish started, he was diagnosed with diabetes level two but it hasn’t stopped him from doing what he wants. The smell reminded me every little piece of him, his hair, his nose, his big bushy eyebrows, his little brown eyes and his unforgettable white T-shirt and blue dress pants. Some days he would wear them with sneakers and some others with dress shoes depending on his humor. It was all over the house, inside the rooms, the bathrooms and the front porch, how could I not notice it? It was a remarkable smell and after all he isn't exactly the person you quickly forget about. He always smelled like a sunny day, like a happy family trip on summer vacation, like a big winter coat and the best friend you could ever have. There was no day that I wasn't amazed with the idea of me winning the lottery and, of course, him and my grandma were definitely my major prize; it always caused a positive reaction inside me so I never hesitate on giving them back a big warm smile. He had a unique smell and so the fresh coffee, to me they were like oneself. Each coffee cup perfectly accommodated in the cabinet were trophies for me what for him was love for his country, its culture and its traditions. Each cup was unique because they were given to him from different addresses, that cautiously chose at a souvenir shop right before taking the flight back to the city. But the amazing thing now that I think about it is that he has always been an incredibly multitalented father, a wisdom grandpa, a beloved husband and an honorable friend who isn’t worried about brand gifts because if someone gave to him a T-shirt, a cap, a key ring or a coffee cup, he would wear it proudly. He is the kind of man that appreciated a good company, a friendly smile, an honest work and people’s good attitude.
