SMELL THE COFFEE Back in April of 1977 when I was in my late twenties I stoped in on my mother for a visit. My father had died the week before and I was keeping a close I on mom because she was taking the loss extremely hard. We lived about four miles apart in the small town of Wrentham, Mass. Unannounced visits were common. On this one occasion, I picked up the strong aroma of perked coffee as I walked through the door. 'I'll have a cup!!' I announced with a grin. She grinned back from her perch on the couch and only shrugged her shoulders. In the kitchen sat the pot cleaned and ready for the next days coffee. 'Hadn't brewed any since this morning' She said. My hair stood on end as I remembered how much the old man loved his coffee. Every evening he'd brew a pot and I thought my mother was carrying on a sentimental tradition..... The smell would come and go for the next ten years. Others remarked about it as well. My wife at the time thought it was spooky and was a bit shy about visiting. My mother and her wisdom set her straight though... 'Your father in-law, was a warm loving man, he never hurt you when he was alive, so why would he when he was dead?? Would you like another cup of coffee????' How it changed my life:Gave me insight about the here after
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