Saturday, February 14, 2009

Karma Schmarma

"Make your own blankety blank coffee."

I said it real snarky.
I refused to see the instant hurt in his eyes.
This gentle man who asks for so little.
He came in and made the coffee.
That was 27 years ago.
I'd just moved into dearest one's humble little abode
when he'd stuck his head in the door
and asked me to put the coffee on
because his uncle was coming in for a cup.
I wasn't a maid.
I didn't drink coffee.
Who did he think he was, telling me to make coffee?
Lord have mercy.

Dearest one was raised in a culture
where women wait on men hand and foot.
I had me a little attitude going on.
I'd seen his dad in action;
how the women got up from the table and
fetched whatever he wanted as if his legs didn't work.
I thought I'd make it clear from the start
I wasn't going to be one of them women.
I had no idea dearest one wasn't
a "bossing women around" kind of man.
We'd only been together a few weeks.
And had never had coffee together.
I still don't drink coffee.
And though I rarely make it,
I have learned that being kind
in thought and action
is a better use of my energy
than snarky comebacks.
Lord have mercy.

Yesterday morning, before we left for town,
youngest son made a pot of coffee.
He filled his cup just before we headed out the door.
He and dearest one are away until Monday night.
I never gave the coffee pot another thought.

I burnt my popcorn a little bit last night in the microwave.
This morning I got up and wondered to myself
if I had possibly burnt it more than I remembered.
All morning the burnt smell got stronger and stronger.
I nearly washed the microwave out just to get rid of the stench.
Silly me.

Eventually I noticed the red light on the coffee maker
trying to get my attention.
I looked and saw charred coffee remains in the pot.
They were all poufy like they'd been backcombed into a beehive.
I didn't know coffee could burn itself into such a state.
The coffee filter had burnt, crispy marks around the top edges too,
like it was about to go up in smoke.

27 years is a long time to wait.
Karma really is a bitch.
Better it than me.

7 comments:

steveroni said...

Y'all don't have to be concerned about not drinking coffee. I drink yours, and a few others' each day, to the tune of nearly a gallon.

I must have one more cup now, before going to bed....

steveroni said...

I forgot to say--from what I observe, you have come a long way from "snarky"

Hey, I just looked up the word "snarky"...and that was REALLY ME! And sometimes is STILL me.

Snarky: Rudely sarcastic, etc...

But it's not 'you' any more, right Hope? .....Hope???

daisymarie said...

This made me laugh and it brought me to tears. I sat here and reflected on how little Nelson asks of me. I thought back, way back to our beginnings, to our expectations of each other. I wonder if I'm brave enough to ask him what he expected. I know one area I've never kept up "enough" in...

Anonymous said...

Not exactly "instant" Karma. Glad you discovered the source of that burned smell. Yikes.

My dear one once left the oven on overnight which I discovered the next morning. Wonder what karma was behind that one...... must've been a doozy. :)

Mich

Cat said...

Oh I really do get so much from reading your postings... thank you again!

Gabriella Moonlight said...

Great post indeed. The idea of karma sneaking up on you after so many years...thank you for this post and the gentle reminder that it's always there.

truevyne said...

poignant post, friend