Coffe cup with spoon

My father-in-law would always drink coffee from a cup with a spoon in it. It would make his wife crazy because they never seemed to find their way back to the kitchen. All around the house, there were spoons.

Four years ago, today, he died. On these anniversaries, I like to drink with a spoon in my cup. I never cream or sugar my coffee, but the act of using a spoon helps me to remember him.

He was, at times, an infuriating man. He was highly opinionated, had the smarts to back it up, and would not let go when he thought something was correct. At his funeral, I compared him to the Apostle Paul in my sermon.

But he was also generous. He bought us diapers when Uno was a baby and we couldn’t afford it. He helped move us from Kansas to Kentucky for seminary. He would drive two hours on Lady’s birthday to take her to lunch, just to drive back home again.

I miss him – everything about him.

So, today I drink coffee from a cup with a spoon in it because I don’t want to forget.