My husband is a stickler for quality coffee. He’s a stickler for a lot of things… neatly folded laundry, a tidy and well-stocked home bar, and clean hair and scalp. The man is spotless. And so is his coffee routine.
You see, my husband takes small, calculated steps to make the perfect pot of coffee. It doesn't matter if it’s a Wednesday or Sunday. If he’s making the morning coffee he’s going to do it and do it right. The perfectly roasted bean, freshly ground and brewed with clean filtered water that he infused with minerals. Ya heard me.
Me on the other hand, I just want a fucking cup of coffee. I don’t care it came from the Four Seasons or a convenience store. Brew it, pour it, I’ll drink it.
What my husband has taught me, through his coffee making, is patience. He always teaches me patience. It harkens back to when we began dating. I’ll never forget the moment. We were on a casual Sunday drive. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering so fast I thought I was floating. As casually as I could, I asked him, "what are we….are we a thing…?".
We were stopped at an intersection and he looked over to me, completely calm, cool, and self-assured. I'd never seen him so confident within himself. And I’d spent a lot of time with him over the past several years. In his effortless, radiant moment he said -
“let’s spend time together - it’ll all work out”.
I immediately felt secure. I was safe. I needed nothing more.
Dave's a Virgo. That may mean something to you or not, but my husband is organized and precise with great fortitude. He makes great coffee. He teaches me patience, and that quality is way more important than the quantity of anything. He’s teaching me that taking the long way, often gifts you with the best outcome, joy, and happiness.
How he makes coffee is how he does almost all things. When my husband makes us coffee, in our little tiny home, on our noisy little city street, I feel like a queen. He took the time to make it the best.
With great love,
*photo by Madison Draffan, photographer