It’s a simple ritual. Fill pot with water. Insert paper filter. Measure coffee grounds.
It doesn’t take a team of two. Yet, somehow, it does.
Since my husband retired, we have been setting up the coffee pot for the next morning brew together.
He stands some 7 inches taller than I, and sees the water level in the clear glass pot much differently.
I have found the perfect level of coffee grains, scooped to a slight mound. He never quite adds enough to my taste.
If we forget, or one of us retires early, the other preps the coffee alone. It is never quite as good.
In a recent post, I wrote about a potential health scare for him, mentioned a cytology report. It was negative for cancer.
There will be some follow-up procedures, CT scans, etc., but the threat is so greatly reduced.
We will lose each other one day. Just not right now.
And we will focus on the small things.
Like making coffee.