My percolator coffee maker died a few weeks ago. The same percolator that Kenny and I bought brand new for $20 off Offer Up on Easter Sunday three years ago. The same percolator that he drank his last cup of coffee from on a Thursday morning before he left this earth.
I tried in vain to bring the percolator back to life but in the end I did not succeed. It was just its time to go. It served us well in the time we had it but as it is with everything in life, there is a time and place for it to end.
As I searched online for a new percolator it occurred to me that I didn’t need to buy a large one. There was no need to buy an 8 cup coffee pot because I was the only one who was going to be drinking the coffee made in it. So, I bought a small 4 cup percolator instead.
I can’t adequately describe how incredibly sad this one thing made me feel. As in truly, deeply sad. The kind of sad that settles deep inside your bones and doesn’t want to leave, no matter how hard you try to make it go away. Buying that single person’s coffee pot was just one more reminder that it’s just me here now.
Kenny and I shared many conversations over coffee made in this percolator. Some of those conversations were light-hearted and funny. Some of them were serious and devoid of all joy. We laughed while drinking the coffee made in this percolator, and we cried on occasion, too.
Plans were made over coffee made in this percolator. Plans to do things and plans of places to go. Some of those plans came to fruition; some never did. It’s those plans that never had life breathed into them that really eat at my insides because they’ll never be realized, at least not with Kenny. Even if I were able to do these things myself it wouldn’t be the same, not without him.
I don’t like sitting alone drinking my coffee that I made in this 4 cup percolator. It’s so terribly lonely. There’s no one across the table to talk to. No one’s eyes to look into while listening to every word they’re saying. There’s no one to laugh with and there’s no one to cry with. There’s no one to make plans with and talk about all the things we want to do and places we want to go. There’s no one to just sit with and enjoy being in their presence, even if it’s in silence. There isn’t anyone sitting across the table anymore where I’d need an 8 cup percolator and well, that just hurts and the hurt won’t go away.