My love of coffee starts so far back, I can’t even remember when I started drinking it on a regular basis. All I know is that by the time I got out of college, drinking coffee was just part of my normal routine, up there with taking a shower and feeding the cat. It got me through late-night cram sessions, long-distance drives, and bad dates. During my time as a journalist, I often put a story to bed with one hand on the keyboard and another wrapped around a steaming mug.
Not so my husband, who has an aversion to the smell of coffee brewing.
In the beginning of our marriage, coffee was not an issue. I could grab a cuppa at work, and let’s face it new love and lots of well anyway, let us say that there were other ways to keep my energy up, made me not miss the caffeine as much. Once I got pregnant, which happened before I even got a chance to hang up my wedding gown in the hall closet, I gave up the coffee altogether. The next seven years basically consisted of either being pregnant or nursing or sometimes both.
I had my next cup of coffee after church service one Sunday, and coffee and I re-established our relationship. Significant things can happen after church.
Anyway, there I was. How to coffee and not to coffee.
My husband solved the problem with the gift of one of those cup coffee makers that brews coffee in less than a minute. The choices are limited, the coffee is merely adequate, but it is available. The one-minute brew time prevents my husband from getting sick, which is a good thing in a relationship. Plus, I don’t have to turn in my writer’s badge and start drinking tea.
In my day-to-day, I often forget these little sacrifices. The one I made to avoid my infants from being jacked up on espresso and the one my husband made so I wouldn’t have to sacrifice something I enjoy.
In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, what small sacrifices are floating, quietly, around in your life?