Have a Cup

 

Have a Cup

I bought the coffee cup early in our marriage, so I’ve had it, off and on, for at least 40 years.  It has survived two cross-country moves, as well as at least one fairly local move when we moved from the west side of Green Bay to our home 10 miles west of town 33 years ago.  Thinking of that, I’m impressed that it is still intact; there isn’t even a chip in it. 

I bought the cup from a smalltown wildlife art dealer.  It has several timber wolves painted on it.  The cup reminded me of a poem I had written in my college years called, ‘Brother Wolf’.  My wife and I were married only a few years at the time and I had been using one of the cups from our regular dish set; this cup was more personal because it reflected a bit of my personality.  Now, 40 plus years later, our coffee cup cupboard is overflowing with ‘personal’ cups that both Michelle and I have received from children, grandchildren, co-workers, friends and family through the years; they’re all at least double stacked on the three shelves.

I mentioned that I have owned the cup off an on through the years.  I had ‘lost” the cup several times.  The first time was when my oldest son, Jacob, traded his little red pickup truck for a family car after his oldest child was born.  I noticed the cup was missing, but I didn’t bother asking about it.  I assumed that it had gotten broken and whoever did it was hoping that I didn’t make inquiries.  I did not.  But one day Jacob had stopped by to get something, I don’t recall exactly what, that he was now ready to move from our basement to his apartment.  I helped him carry it out, and when he popped his trunk open I noticed my coffee cup, pushed to the side of his trunk.  “Hey, my cup!”  I grabbed it.  Dried coffee still stained the inside of the cup.  “Oh, I guess I borrowed it one day and forgot about it.  It’s been riding around in my trunk since last summer,” Jake said, with a casual shrug of the shoulders.

The cup stayed at home, safely in the cupboard for quite a few years.  I let Jacob use it when he came to visit, but I made sure that he left it behind.  But oner day the cup disappeared for a second time.  Again, I just assumed that its luck had run out.  But then my wife and I flew out to Colorado to visit Jacob and his family as they had moved just north of Denver the previous year.  The first morning Jacob made some coffee.  He served mine in my wolf cup.  He claimed that he had no idea of when he had ‘borrowed’ it the second time.  I packed it in my suitcase at the end of our trip and took it back home to Wisconsin.

Jacob, Jammie, and the girls drove home recently to celebrate Thanksgiving with us.  It was the first time our family had been together for Thanksgiving for six or seven years.  They arrived the Monday evening before the holiday, and stayed at our house until the Saturday after.  On Tuesday morning, I made the coffee.  I set the wolf cup on the coffee table next to Jacob.  We had a chuckle over it.  While they spent some of their time during the week visiting other relatives and friends, we got to share some relaxing time drinking coffee, visiting, and just enjoying the blessing of being together every morning.

They got up at 3:30 AM on the Saturday morning, so they could hit the road by 4:00 AM.  It’s a 16-hour drive and they wanted to make it back in one day.  I woke up as soon as I heard them all moving around upstairs.  I got up, went to the kitchen, grabbed the wolf cup and slipped it into the pocket of Jacob’s jacket.  As soon as they had brought all their luggage downstairs, Jacob grabbed his jacket so he could load up their vehicle.  He noticed the cup right away of course.  He pulled it out, looked at it, and then smiled at me.  I smiled back.  “When you get home, I thought it would be nice if you would still be able to have a cup of coffee with your dad.”

His Peace <><

Deacon Dan         

Photo by John Schnobrich on Unsplash

Photo by John Schnobrich on Unsplash

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