Coffee!

I could really use a coffee right now...

Unfortunately, our home has housed something like four different coffee makers since we've moved in here, and I just haven't been able to figure out the way to a perfect cup since the day our trusty Tim Hortons decided to call it quits (most likely due to coffee maker overuse syndrome). Three models later, I'd still much rather try to con somebody else into making me a cup. Usually, that person is mom.

Arguments ("I can drink coffee at night! It doesn't disrupt my sleep!"), excuses ("But mommy, it's not the same when I make it"), flattery ("Mommy, you make the best coffee"), trickery (start to make coffee but screw up so mommy will say I'm doing it wrong and take over)...they don't always work. However, usually mommy complies to coffee requests if more than one person is interested. Cue daddy:

Typical Situation

Me: *yelling* Who wants coffee?
Dana: *muttering* No/ No, I'm drinking tea!/No, I'm going to the gym!
Dad: *with enthusiasm* I could have some coffee!
Mom: Okay! *starts making coffee*

"Would anybody like a coffee?"
That's one of those things he'd say after dinner, and one of those random dad things that I miss. Just like I miss his annoying parody songs, and how he would never fold the tab back all the way on his pop cans and coffee lids, and the games of "bring" (aka fetch) he played with Wallace.

The staff at the hospice told us that he had the biggest smile on his face yesterday, enjoying a coffee with breakfast. Often I'll walk into his room with a coffee of my own, thinking he's asleep, and I'll be startled by one of the following lines:

"Oh, a coffee!"
"Is that for me?"
or "Thanks for the coffee!"

Needless to say, I never mind sharing.

Dad was pretty restless today, tugging at the sheets and moving around quite a bit. He drank a lot but ate very little. He took some of his meds in the afternoon, and by the time Dana and I left, he was resting. Days are kind of blurring together now...gradual declines separated by plateaus consisting of better and worse days. In that aspect, nothing much has changed, and all we can do is continue to prepare and wait.

I was talking to a friend of mine last night whose grandfather passed away around Christmas last year. We were talking about how difficult it is to go through times like these during the holidays, when it seems like everyone else is happy and carefree. Anyways, something she said really stuck with me: "Don't worry, God only takes the very special people away from us at this time of the year". Evidently, she has a point.

Sorry this entry is a bit all over the place. Since I finished exams last Tuesday, I haven't really had any time to sit down and write. It takes me forever to get my thoughts out the way I want them, and I don't like to settle for publishing unfinished work just because I feel pressured to write something.

I've been going to my student placement, doing last minute Christmas errands, visiting dad, and am currently nursing a dog with diarrhea. I also need to find time over the break to study for two tests and write an essay. Busy, busy, busy...

Anyways, to close I just have a little story about Dad and coffee to share.
My dad was always very involved in my skating, taking me to and from practice everyday, for many years, eventually becoming the President of the Mississauga Figure Skating Club. On the way to the frigid rink, we often stopped for a coffee. On the way home, we were both officially frozen from being at the rink for so long, and often stopped for a coffee. This you see, I am certain has in some way contributed to our dependence on hot, caffeinated beverages. Point is, I have witnessed many, many, many daddy vs drive-through interactions. Many of these interactions involved him yelling into the order box (he is a loud talker), and many of these interactions involved him completely driving past the order box. We often arrived at the pick-up window greeted by a confused cashier, with the order for the car behind us all ready to go. After explaining the situation, we always had our order made for us on the spot. I was always embarrassed, but I remember dad sipping his coffee with pride as we pulled away remarking "Look Stacey, It's fresher this way!"