Coffee

I think my husband is kind of like coffee. Kyle tells me that being a barista is like being a bartender with coffee and I totally get that. And I think he is the best barista anyone could ask for because he really loves his customers. He remembers their names and their favorite orders and he really wants to know about their days, about their families, and their lives. He loves to come home and tell me the craziest stories about the people he meets all day long. “People aren’t paying $4 for just a cup of coffee,” he tells me. “They can get that at home. People want to come to a coffee house to feel like someone cares about them, like they have a community, a place to go.” He’s right. I think people are really lonely for each other. And when he comes home at night and I get to bury my nose in the collar of his shirt, I can smell the coffee. So now whenever I smell coffee, I think about Kyle. Sometimes when he’s not home, I sniff his work shirts. (Do NOT tell him.) Kyle is kind of like coffee to me. He’s calm and wise but he’s also warm and gets my heart racing. He smells good and makes me feel safe and reminds me of home. You guys…I really love coffee.

love, elizabeth