Should making a good cup of coffee surprise me? Well, it did.

When I arrive, my dad asks if he could make me a cup of coffee. “Sure!” I know it’s that dehydrated stuff, but it’s rare I get offered a cup of coffee so I take advantage of his offer.

My dad goes into the kitchen and I start to wonder what I will be getting. Will I get a cup full of floating granules in cold water? Will I get a cup of hot water with a spoon in it? If it tastes horrible will it be because he didn’t make it right or is it because the dehydrated stuff just tastes bad even when its made right?

Given a “moderate” dementia diagnosis (Vascular and Alzheimer’s), the things I’ve noticed with my dad is the absence of short-term memory and his agitation if he has to wait on anyone or answer questions. I realize I’m short-selling my parent’s abilities. 

He then asks “You want milk and sugar right?” I confirm he’s right. A few minutes later he emerges with a delicious cup of coffee. I am relieved and shamed. I enjoy every last drop. I need to acknowledge that both my parents are still capable of many things and I still have opportunities to visit with the people that raised me. Savored.

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