OVERFLOWING THE CUP GENTLY
The pre-dawn hours made it difficult to focus well through squinted eyes that seared and watered with yawns of my inexperienced youth. The faint light over the kitchen sink barely illuminating the small space didn’t help the fight between my eyelids and gravity.
He was efficient in the mornings. Like everything in his life, there weren’t many wasted moves… I’m like that now. I think of him daily still, especially first thing in the morning when it’s pitch black outside and I’m in the kitchen getting ready for another day.
I remember the rituals he stuck to even after technology deemed them outdated. My mom would have the coffee ready to go, all my dad had to do was hit the “on” button. I recall how his coffee cup sat in the empty sink basin with the hot water on just above a trickle overflowing the cup gently as my dad took care of the other items that made up his morning ritual. He’d honed the art of the hot cup of coffee over decades of daily practice.
It’s funny how memories play like a movie in our minds eye when triggered by the common occurrences of our daily lives.
I can still see myself when I was a kid sitting in the chair of the living room with my hands in my jacket pockets slumped over with regret and dread, being forced from slumber to begin to taste what the future had in store as I crawled toward manhood.
I think about not being able to eat anything in the wee hours and actually feeling queasy when my dad urged me to. I have to say I didn’t mind the aroma of the brewing coffee as it filled our modest home. I recall being completely mystified by the magical aroma of coffee and how it’s wafting scent tricked and bit at my gullible tongue.
I sat slumped in silence in the front seat of my dad’s work truck sometimes with eyes closed longing for sleep. Other times taking in the sights of the small town still sleeping while the earth began to lighten as the sun announced it’s authority long before it showed its face. The constant was my dad sipping his coffee on the way to face his day.
I think about the times many years later when my dad pulled into the parking lot beside my office on the way to his in the pre-dawn mornings. Most times I was there before him and him well before his employees as he unlocked the gate to his yard… Somewhere along the way I managed to bring the senses of my nose and tongue to a mutual agreement on the coffee… I just needed some hard times, freezing weather, and some creamer to pull it off.
My dad’s ritual comes to mind almost every morning when I stick my coffee cup, with just the right amount of creamer, into the micro for the perfect twenty-two seconds.
I guess my little one will remember my rituals too, how I sip my coffee in the mornings as we chat on the way to dropping her off at school. She doesn’t like eating in the mornings, says it “makes her stomach queasy,” likes the smell of coffee but doesn’t like the taste.
I’m guessing that will probably change in time. What won’t change is the love passed from generation to generation and how it will be remembered among the seemingly insignificant things in life… like warm water gently overflowing the cup… and heart.
Sharon
Tuesday, February 18, 2014 @ 8:30 pm
You will understand, Floyd, why this remembrance of your dad brought a big smile to my face. It brought back memories when I would wake in the mornings to have breakfast with my dad before going to school. I was not a morning person. And I always felt queasy in the morning. He would always force me to eat something because he thought breakfast was the most important meal of the day. I also didn’t like the taste of coffee – especially when my dad would tease me by putting a spoonful in my milk – but I have grown to love it, just my way.
In these days since his passing, I am remembering so many things. And yes, they are warming my heart…
Love flows from generation to generation – and we are filled with love – because Someone loved us first, and fills our cups to overflowing.
GOD BLESS!
Floyd
Tuesday, February 18, 2014 @ 9:32 pm
I do understand, Sharon. The memories, the smallest of things, show so much more than we had the insight to see as children. And we learned to show love… even when it wasn’t the easiest thing to make our kids do what they didn’t want… That’s true love, isn’t it? You and I are blessed, sister. My heart is with you during this time, Sharon. God bless you too, sister.
Thomas Mason
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 6:22 am
As I was reading your post I was listening to a song through my ear buds that reminded me of my mom and her health struggles and now I’m filled with peace that she is in a much better place now. Great words, Floyd.
Floyd
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 9:22 am
I know that peace… It is the kind that can’t be captured on the outside. The same love she gave, you now pass on to yours. Pretty cool really. Thanks, Thomas.
Wanda
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 6:40 am
This makes me think of my own childhood and how my dad loved coffee too. Although I never quite managed to get my tongue and nose in sync like you Floyd. I’m one of only two people in my office that doesn’t drink coffee, although the aroma is nice.
Floyd
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 9:27 am
I think if you enjoy the coffee by way of smell only that’s just as good. If the aroma reminds you of your dad, that’s even better! We have so many small gifts that add up to be so much I think. Thanks, Wanda.
Loren Pinilis
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 7:49 am
Now that I get a little older, it’s interesting the things I remember about my parents. It makes me wonder, of course, about what my children will remember about me.
Floyd
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 9:29 am
Most likely the same things! The good and the bad! I think the most important thing to realize is it isn’t the big moments that mean the most, it’s the small ones done with love daily over the decades that add up to be the most. Good things to ponder for sure. Thanks, Loren.
Nannette and the Sweetheart
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 10:27 am
Beautiful. You have such a way of weaving us into your life through your words. ♥
Floyd
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 5:41 pm
Thank you, Nannette. I’m honored to walk you through some of my life, it’s not all been pretty or worth seeing, but the redeemed part is pretty good for all of us. Bless you and yours, sister.
Bill (cycelguy)
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 2:30 pm
i don’t have the good memories you do Floyd. My dad preferred being alone. He was often long gone in the morning when I got up or in bed when I got up depending on the shift he was working. I envy you. However, both mom and dad drank coffee and their oldest son still does not.
Floyd
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 5:46 pm
That oldest son is a real case! I tell you, Bill. I really have no idea of what would have happened to me had it not been for my dad. The wild seed skipped him but landed squarely in my DNA. It’s been a fight for me most of my life. To live and run the race you have is what I truly admire and respect, Bill. Your life inspires me to live mine more like I’m called to. Thanks for all your wisdom and support, preacher man. And I use that term with reverence.
Bill (cycelguy)
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 3:30 am
I am honored and humbled you would think that way about me Floyd. Very rarely does a tribute like this happen. Thanks so much my friend. And I take the “preacher man” as a compliment. 🙂
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:39 pm
It’s my pleasure to share that truth with you, preacher man. Keep running the good race, brother.
Hazel Moon
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 6:28 pm
I always liked the smell of coffee, but it wasn’t until I went to work and the girls went out at 10:00 am for coffee and a donut that I learned to drink it. My dad worked the swing shift so he was often still asleep when I got up for school. He always had a cup of coffee in his hands, but mom only drank one cup in the morning. My work was the Saturday chores mother had us do in order to receive a nickle or a dime depending on how difficult the task. Thanks for the memories! Yes they do linger and are revived from time to time.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:17 pm
The memories are special gifts. Yours speak to my heart, Hazel. I can only imagine all the special gifts and memories you share with your family. Blessings to you!
Pam
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 6:33 pm
You paint such vivid, beautiful pictures with your words, Floyd. I love it when you reminisce about seemingly trivial things that somehow have significant impact. It’s true for all of us.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:18 pm
It really is true for all of us, Pam. Good call. We look for the biggest dreams and memories and in the end it’s the every day ones we take for granted that pay the biggest dividends. Thanks for your wisdom, Pam.
Voni
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 7:29 pm
Floyd, it’s all about family, and family is all about those small moments. Makes me think of the Old Testament when God would have the Jews build a pile of rocks to commemorate this or that. Or He would tell the Jewish parents to explain to their kids why they did this or that on a special day. Generation to generation …
Blessings,
Voni
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:19 pm
Amen, Voni… Generation to generation. And we remember and we honor those that went before us and our Father as well. Thanks, Voni.
Alyssa Santos
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 7:31 pm
Floyd,
Wow. I’m missing my dad now! He’s grown frail and soft with age – even the callouses that lived long on his hands are a memory and his fingers are narrow and smooth. The things we didn’t think we noticed when we were young — thank goodness our minds hold more than we know at the time. I like the sense of full circle, the maturation and of course, the strong morning coffee.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:25 pm
The might vice like hands don’t last forever, but the love does. We don’t carry anything with us to the other side except the most critical things… like that love. The same One and I have that we pass along to our kids. I love the stories of your dad, Alyssa. It’s great to hear from you again, sister.
tcavey
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 7:40 pm
Heart warming…thanks, Floyd.
I started liking coffee at a young age because of my dad. Coffee is still a bond that holds us together, even though death has briefly separated us.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:27 pm
Whoa. Your comment just gave me chills, TC. It really is brief isn’t it? Awesome words and wisdom, TC. That really puts things into the perfect perspective. Thanks.
Rachael
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 9:35 pm
I can so relate to this. I just started drinking coffee a few years ago just like my mom and my grandmother do. It took years to acquire a taste for it but really it is not about the taste, it is the legacy and the habit passed down. With the right amount of creamer I am happy to pick up my cup of coffee every morning and remember those I love. Blessings to you, Floyd! Thanks for sharing you story:)
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:30 pm
Funny how a cup of coffee can be mark a time of fellowship with loved ones. I’m like you, it took a while and I’m not one of those people that have to have a cup of coffee, but the tradition makes me think of the ones that God put in my life to help me along. With you, sister. Thanks to you too for sharing, Rachael.
Lincoln Parks
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 @ 9:41 pm
Great memories Floyd. I remember something that always got us going was when my Dad would be away for a few days and he came home. He would always stop off and Bring home a Chinese dish to eat. We knew we would get our favorite meal when he came back from trips. Great memories, make us think how we are leaving memories for our children. Thanks Floyd.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:35 pm
That’s it exactly! It’s not even about the food, but the time spent with one another as we shared life. What a blessing those seemingly insignificant details are for us now. And for what they’re going to mean to our children.
Every time I or my wife go out of town we bring back something for the kids. Now only the little one is home and I brought her a sweatshirt I picked up at the airport in Austin on business.
A few days ago she told me while wearing it, “I love this one, it’s my most comfortable one!” You and I both know it’s not about the fabric, huh? What a blessing to be able to see it before it slips past to only her… Thanks, Lincoln. Keep being the dad our Father has called you and I to be, brother!
Micah
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 5:40 am
Dude, you’re just a beautiful writer man. Though you’ll never convince me coffee is a good thing – the smell, the taste. I can’t even eat chocolates if they’re coffee flavoured. And I love chocolate.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:42 pm
Thanks for the kind words, Micah. If by our Father’s providence we get to meet for coffee on this side of eternity, we’ll switch it to tea… not that I like tea, but it would be worth the time spent with you, my friend. It’s only an ocean away!
Ceil
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 8:32 am
Hi Floyd! You are really lucky to have so many memories of your childhood. I have to work to find mine! My Dad was very busy at work, my Mom wrangling eight kids… I think my memories of my siblings is probably sharper.
Isn’t it so cool to see how your likes/dislikes pass down to your ‘little one’? DNA is quite a pull, isn’t it. And you can sit there with your coffee and wonder at how God shares a piece of ourselves with our children.
Blessings to you and your family, as you go from sleep to wake and then to coffee. (Lord knows how much I love my coffee…) and all the wonders in between.
Ceil
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:45 pm
“And all the wonders in-between.” You summed that most beautifully, Ceil. My dad worked a lot too, but knew it was a way of life and made it be part of mine, even when I didn’t want it to be. My parents didn’t give us much in the way of things, but gave us all the Necessary things to survive in life and beyond. I guess we couldn’t ask for much more than that, huh? Blessings to you and yours as well, sister. Thank you!
David Rupert
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 9:23 am
Rituals provide a degree of comfort and certainty in a world that is disrupted and uncertain. When I have felt lonely, or sad, or depressed, I retreat to those rituals to give me mooring and help prop me up until I am strong again.
That’s why I pray every day. I read God’s word. I go to church. Even when I don’t feel like it.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:47 pm
I like that discipline, David. “Draw nigh unto Me and I will draw nigh unto you.” That’s one solid piece of advice for anyone struggling and in tough times, and we all get a turn at tough times. Thanks for the wisdom, David.
Jason Stasyszen
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 10:09 am
Things definitely get passed on, some we’re aware of and others not. My dad was the one who usually made breakfast for us growing up. He wanted us to have a good start to the day and we literally used to beg him to let us have cereal in the morning because he would always make us a full spread. You know what? I’m the one generally making breakfast every morning now, not because anyone asked me to, but it just seemed right. We do have cereal once a week most weeks, but I so enjoy taking care of my family in this way. Anyway, thanks for taking me down memory lane, Floyd. 🙂
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:51 pm
Yeah, that’s precisely what I’m talking about, Jason. You pass love to your children the same way your dad demonstrated his. What a beautiful tradition and love to pass on. That is awesome. In an age when men rarely cooked, on an occasional Sunday my dad would do the bacon, eggs, and toast for all of us. Thanks for bringing that wonderful memory back to the center of my mind and heart, Jason.
Keep it up, dad! You’re building memories that will be recounted on the other side. Thanks, Jason.
Betty Jo
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 11:12 am
Floyd, it’s so wonderful you have such awesome memories of your father. My father saucered his coffee and drank from the saucer. I’ve never known anyone else who did that. My school friends thought it was odd. I asked him about it once and turns out that’s the way his dad did it (my grandfather died before I was born, so I didn’t know him). The coffee was so hot off the woodstove when my father was growing up, and they had to get out to the farm chores so early, they learned by saucering the coffee it actually cooled and became drinkable faster. No lingering over a good cup of Joe in those days. Years later when my father had his own construction business, he was out early too, but had time to drink his coffee hot if he chose. Although, he stuck to the old patterns! Being the oldest child I have weekend memories of my dad in the mornings because I was his fishing and hunting buddy. We’d be up before dawn getting the tackle or the guns ready, and I cherish those times. I think that is why I love meeting with my Heavenly Father so early in the morning. That’s always the beginning of an adventure too!!
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:56 pm
Those are beautiful memories, Betty Jo! What a blessing our Father gave you in your dad. I so appreciate those type of folks who don’t change their habits because they might be outdated or not en vogue. The world needs those people of discipline and practicality. Those memories set you in motion for a life time, and I have no doubt that you passed some of those beautiful memories down as well. It is a blessing to do so. Thanks for sharing this, Betty Jo, I can almost see you and your dad in the predawn hours.
Betty Draper
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 11:12 am
I haven’t drank coffee for years but have not lost my love for the smell of it. It’s good to remember those times with your Dad for they challenge you and all of us who read your post. I too wonder what will our children remember about us, what smells will they associate with us, my only hope is the memories will be sweet and bless them long after we are gone. I pray our words will be remembered and bring encouragement and build their faith and they will do more then we ever thought about doing. I have said this before since both my husband and mine childhood hold only painful memories we have trusted God to help us not live as victims but as victorious people of faith. Lovely post brother.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 2:02 pm
I know for sure God changed all things in the family tree when He bound you and Ace together. Your children bear witness even now to the Heart in which you and your husband are committed. Jared’s actions of being to stand up as a man and admit his short comings and not throwing blame on others says everything about his life and rearing. None of us are perfect and I’ve given my mom and dad some grief along the way, but that is the path I chose, the one that leads back to the one they showed me. Bless you and your family, Betty. You’ve done far more than and come light years farther than you know, but I appreciate your humility… it is part of that abundant gift of wisdom you possess and use so effectively. Thanks, sister.
Tom Scappaticci
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 1:54 pm
Amazing how the simplest of your memories and writings, wake me up and take me back in time to the very same ones. My brother and I worked on dads produce truck with him every summer from little kids until we graduated from high school. Waking up 3:30 AM to the smell of the coffee and sitting with him at the kitchen table half asleep while he sipped his coffee until we left at 3:45. Even though I was always tired and not looking forward to the day ahead I realize now how special these moments in time were. Great writing my friend, it was nice to re live that and it made me feel like it all happened again this morning.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 2:08 pm
I love to hear you tell those stories of when you were a kid, Tom. Isn’t it funny how they helped shape our lives… and bless them for good measure. You have a way with words, my friend. Thanks, Tom. Always a pleasure to hear your words and stories.
Barb Raveling
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 3:52 pm
Wonderful memories, Floyd. It sounds like you had a great dad. It’s the simple things in life that are the best, isn’t it? Like right now, I’m sitting by the fire with the cat beside me, looking out at the snow, and enjoying life, anticipating the coming home of my daughter and husband. Life is good.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 5:05 pm
It is indeed the simple things that we tend to take for granted, Barb. Good for you, Barb. Enjoy your solace and your family. We’re learning, aren’t we sister? Thanks for the reminder, Barb.
child of God
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 4:08 pm
Hi Floyd,
I sure do hope you publish some books. I could get lost in your writing. You make coffee sound so good!
Thanks for sharing a memory of your dad, it brought back some good, precious memories of my father and his love for his evening tea. Seeing dad sit on the couch drinking his tea always brought such comfort and security to me.
Blessing brother. 🙂
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 5:23 pm
Those are the memories that motivate us in love to pass on the same to our children. I know exactly how you feel, sister… feels good in the soul. Tea, coffee, it’s all good, huh?
Thanks for the kind words, I’m working on the publishing process. I appreciate your encouragement, sister. God bless you and all of yours.
Bernard
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 6:05 pm
Wonderful post. My dad and I didn’t drink coffee. We didn’t like. Reading this brought back memories of us hanging together. He come to our house early on Saturday morning and pick me up to ride with him. We just hang out or do some work. I remember the times we had talking about anything. He has been gone over 7 years, but sometimes I get up early on Saturday and go to the door and look out the window waiting for him to come and pick me up. You don’t know how precious those times are until you lose your love one, but I still have the memories that I can always play in my mind. Thanks Floyd.
Floyd
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 6:22 pm
Oh man. You looking out the window for you dad stabbed me in the heart, Bernard. Those simple times are so much bigger than we ever knew… but now that we do we know to pass some on to our children. We gained wisdom the good way this time, Bernard.
This May will be four years since my dad went to wait for us. I dream about him all the time, and they are the sweetest of dreams; a gift in themselves. Our dads left their fingerprints all over our minds, lives, and hearts. May we carry on the legacy our heavenly Father is calling us to. Thanks, Bernard. You captured me with your truth.
Bernard
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 6:47 pm
This post was just a reminder that life is short and we should love more and spend time with those we love. When it is all said and done we won’t remember the overtime we worked, the game we had to see or the show we couldn’t miss.I am including memories with my wife and boys on the times we shared together. The times we hung out, the times we laughed and the times we overcame together. I realize it more and more each day the importance of how I spend my time.
Floyd
Friday, February 21, 2014 @ 11:31 am
I’m with you, Bernard. Me as well. The two oldest daughters are graduated college now and it just seems like yesterday I was coaching them in high school. Wise words and actions, my friend. It’s good for me to be reminded. Thanks.
Lisa notes
Thursday, February 20, 2014 @ 8:22 pm
“What won’t change is the love passed from generation to generation and how it will be remembered in the seemingly insignificant things in life”
This makes me nostalgic, thinking about the rituals of my own parents. My mom would always get up first to work in the kitchen making homemade biscuits for my dad to eat before he went to work. My kids will have memories of me doing that for them, but unfortunately not Jeff. ha. He still leaves for work before I’m even out of bed.
Floyd
Friday, February 21, 2014 @ 11:33 am
That’s okay! He has the memory of seeing you resting! I’m sure that actually does make him feel good about himself. It’s the small things with all of us in all of our relationships. We try so hard to hit home runs that we miss the best part of life; watching the game unfold. Thanks, Lisa.
Roger
Friday, February 21, 2014 @ 7:03 am
This reminded me of all the early mornings my dad would wake my brother and I up and send us to my grandpas barn to help milk the cows. I never realized how much they both taught me and how much I learned from them till I was much older. The only thing is the barn did’nt smell as good as coffee!
Floyd
Friday, February 21, 2014 @ 11:36 am
Great story, Roger. Your story is worth telling, my friend. Against the odds, you were given all you needed to succeed; nothing… Sometimes that’s the best motivator. You got what was most needed, self respect and discipline. I’d say you did alright. Maybe that’s why you don’t drink coffee! Good to hear from you, man. Thanks.
Mary mcLeary
Friday, February 21, 2014 @ 10:01 am
Even without being aware of it, making memories is in the job description of every parent. Great post about making a lasting ones.
Floyd
Friday, February 21, 2014 @ 11:37 am
Well said, Mary. It is our job and it really comes quite naturally. Not easy, but natural. Your wisdom was definitely passed down, sister! Thanks, Mary.
Jennifer Dougan
Saturday, February 22, 2014 @ 9:27 am
Floyd,
This is one of my favorite of your posts. I love the imagery, smells and sounds of seeing your dad with his cup, and his silent mornings. I could see it, and it made me want to call my dad.
May you and your youngest have seared in morning memories! 🙂
Jennifer Dougan
http://www.jenniferdougan.com
Floyd
Saturday, February 22, 2014 @ 12:09 pm
Thanks so much, Jennifer. I know you are making seared memories with your family. I can only imagine the ones you have with your dad. What a blessing. Call your dad. When the day comes that you can’t, you’ll wish you had. Thanks, Jennifer.
Dolly@Soulstops
Saturday, February 22, 2014 @ 10:00 pm
Floyd,
You have a gift for drawing me into your story, and for getting me to imagine it in my mind’s eye…sounds like your dad passed on so much more to you than just the coffee…and I bet you are doing the same with your daughter 🙂
Floyd
Sunday, February 23, 2014 @ 8:19 am
It really is the small things, the things that didn’t seem like anything at the time that have so much impact on who we are and how we act. The greatest of treasures are the ones that can’t be calculated by a number. Thanks for taking the trip with me back in time. Blessings to you and your family, Dolly.
Dan Erickson
Sunday, February 23, 2014 @ 7:47 am
My daughter goes to Starbucks with me about two or three times a month. She loves vanilla steamers and morning buns. She does like to eat in the mornings.
Floyd
Sunday, February 23, 2014 @ 8:21 am
Good for her and you that she likes to eat in the mornings! I think that’s a huge benefit. Anne will remember those trips with her dad to the coffee shop, what you drink and how you interact. She will remember the love in the details. Good for you, Dan. Thanks for sharing, brother.
Dan Black
Sunday, February 23, 2014 @ 6:24 pm
Great post Floyd! It’s amazing how traditions are handed down. We can change our family line, either for good or bad, with our choices. Drinking coffee is one of those good choices:)
Floyd
Sunday, February 23, 2014 @ 6:48 pm
I’m with you, Dan. I’m glad you’re choosing to be the husband and father that leaves a loving legacy. Blessings to you and yours, my friend.
Dan Black
Sunday, February 23, 2014 @ 8:54 pm
Thank you:) I’m trying.
Floyd
Monday, February 24, 2014 @ 5:52 pm
You are succeeding, my friend.
David
Wednesday, February 26, 2014 @ 8:10 pm
Great post, Floyd. It’s funny how when we take the time to look inward and backwards there are so many little things that are nothings yet they’re somethings. Just enough of a nothing something to bring the slightest smile to the face and a warm spot in the heart …
Floyd
Friday, February 28, 2014 @ 5:44 pm
Indeed! And well said, David. I can tell you have the same “little” memories… What gifts we have, huh? Blessings to you, brother. Love how you put things. Thank you.
Joanne Norton
Thursday, February 27, 2014 @ 6:59 pm
My dad and mom did that. Coffee and cigarettes. My ex-husband did the same. I always knew what was going on soon. However, I never liked the smell and I always hated coffee since I was just under 5. It’s always interesting how we perceive the world around and about us. I sure knew what was going on in all those lives, especially early in the morning. I’m glad you were heart-held and heart-touched by knowing your dad in a non-casual way. You always share with so many people in a way that will open up hearts. That was a good thing, as usual. Bless you, Brother.
Floyd
Friday, February 28, 2014 @ 5:28 pm
I’m honored to know that I have that same trait as you; a way of opening up people’s hearts. That’s very kind, Joanne. You better stick with your tea! Probably a good thing that you never did take the habit of the coffee! Course the one you have for tea might no be any better! Blessings to you, sister. God bless you and Dave.