For the Love of Joe

For the Love of Joe

Pull up a chair and sit awhile

September 17, 2026

Dear Friend:

I can remember the aroma as I walked done the steps for breakfast. It as coming from the kitchen. It was an aroma I knew well, but had not yet tasted. I also remember the familiar sound of the percolator on the stove. My parent coffee.

We were not allowed to drink coffee until we were adults. It was a right of passage. I actually drank my first cup of coffee at work. I am not really sure why. I think one of my coworkers asked me if I want a cup. The coffee maker was right outside my office. It had never occurred to me to try a cup. I guess it was all those years not drinking coffee. One sip and I was sold.

I drink my coffee to this day the same way as my Dad, lots of milk and sugar and a little coffee. Us kids teased my Dad that he liked a like coffee with his cream and sugar. Of course now I use monk fruit, much kinder to the waist line.

I also remember my oldest daughter asking for a sip of coffee. We were at a neighbors house and my neighbor told me to let her have a sip thinking she would not ever want another sip. Well that failed miserably. Much like her mother she liked a little coffee with cream and sugar.

Over the years, the way we make coffee has changed. There were the old stovetop percolators, then drip coffee makers, pod machines, espresso machines, pour-overs, French presses and instant coffee. Everyone seems to have a favorite.

And now there is a plethora of coffee shops. There was a time when you made your coffee at home, or a waitress at the local diner would walk by with a coffee pot and ask, “Would you like a fill-up?”  There are now many different  types of coffee drinks, regular coffee, decaf, lattes, mochas, ice coffee, and cold brew. And of course the flavors, caramel, pumpkin spice, peppermint and eggnog, my favorites. You can get your coffee with whipped cream or cold foam in different flavors. Today there seems to be a coffee shop on every corner.

Funny how something as ordinary as a cup of coffee can carry so many memories.

When I make my coffee in the morning, I sometimes think of my Dad, his cup filled with mostly milk and sugar, and the little girl who once sat at her kitchen set pretending to be grown up.

Perhaps that's one of the pleasures of getting older—the little things that unexpectedly tie us to the people from our past we still love and miss.

Until next time, stay well, stay safe, and stay connected to those you love.

Be well,

Emma

Emma is the voice behind Sharing with Seniors, where every story starts with a memory. Through stories of family, friendships, music, traditions, hometowns, and life's simple pleasures, she invites readers to pull up a chair, stay awhile, and remember the moments that have shaped their lives.