I sit in the corner of Adelle’s sipping the last bitter drops of my tea that had gone cold. It is chilly and windy outside and I am reluctant to leave the warmth of the cozy little coffee shop. I sit for a few moments more watching the barista make something hot and foamy. I suddenly think of my daughter, Morgan, who loves the foamy chi tea here. We always delighted in the design the barista would swirl in her hot drink.
It was only a few winters past, that Morgan and I would meet every Monday at Adelle’s. The small hole-in-the-wall establishment always seems to have a warm golden glow to it. It must be the light reflecting off the art filled walls. A mixture of all sorts of folks come and go. Adelle’s is as much a feast for the eyes as it is for the palette.
Morgan only stayed one winter, then moved back home to Florida. Mondays always seem a little empty without her at Adelle’s. I can still picture her sitting across from me blowing on her hot chi tea, telling me all about what was going on in her life, her plans and dreams.
These Monday memories are like old faded photographs carefully tucked away in the scrapbook of my mind. To be taken out and looked at, remembered and cherished and then tucked away again.
I finally push back my chair and grab my book and car keys and head for the door. I think I will call my daughter when I get home.