My Morning Coffee
I was never a huge fan of coffee. It was the experience of walking out onto the front porch, the cool wooden surface under my bare feet and the smell of late august dew on the grass in the morning that made me enjoy a steaming cup of coffee.
The front porch was always a family space. When I was younger, late elementary to middle school, my family would gather there when it was nice out after work and school. My parents would sip on wine and time my siblings and I racing barefoot down the grassy hill, with the occasional tumble of course. The object was to touch the green paint-peeled bench next to the pond and be the first back up to the front step. The winner would usually win a nickel.
All summer long the day started and ended on the front porch. From my morning bowl of cereal to shucking corn for dinner, which was always a family activity. We would bring the radio out and listen to a mixture of country and rock while my dad would sing along. It was always the happiest of days.
Even on a rainy day the front porch became a place we would wrap up in blankets, pop popcorn and relax while listening to the rain. Sitting on the top front porch step allowed just enough over-hang from the roof to let the raindrops hit your feet. Many nights I remember listening to the thunder rumble as lightning would crack and streak across the sky and my eyes would get heavy, while slowly drifting off on my mom’s lap.
The best part, aside from being with family, was watching the most beautiful sunsets at the end of a fun summer day. Although there was perfectly suitable outdoor furniture to sit on, the whole family would somehow always end up right on that top front step to watch shades of purple and pink fill the evening sky.
Leaving for college freshman year was difficult, mornings were the worst. August dew in the air, yet stuck in a dorm, tip-toeing around in the attempt to not wake my roommate. The cold hospital like tile under my feet instead of the familiar cool wooden surface. No sunrise, no coffee. I tried to get my cup of coffee on the way to class, but it just was never the same.
I never realized how much I appreciated something so simple. It was more than a front porch, it symbolized growing up and a sense of family, what I missed most away from home.
When I come home from school, even when everyone is busy with school and work, I wake up with a full heart. Now I hold on to those rare chances to start my day walking onto the porch in my bare feet, warm cup of coffee in hand, with the thought of my family finishing the day on that top porch step.
