So, I was listening to a news story about how the latest round of lost electricity in Puerto Rico has impacted life on the island.  A woman shared the impact on her business, a local coffee shop, and how it’s had to close early, or not opening at all.  One of her customers was interviewed.  As he told his story, he focused on how the closing of the coffee shop has effected his daily routine.  While I understand the larger picture of the story was the continued loss of power on the island and the ill-effects of that reality, what I clung to was his telling of getting his cup of coffee at the end of the day.  He reminisced that it’s what one grows up doing from the time you are a little kid – at the end of the day, you drink your cup of coffee and you stay up late.  I found something so familiar in that.  I guess we do.

I grew up making coffee every morning for my grandmother.  The morning ritual was to make the coffee, boiling the water very hot, leave it on her nightstand, next to her cigarettes, and empty her pee bucket – full of pee and cigarette butts from the night before.  That way, when she woke up hours after I left to school, there, on her nightstand would be her two vices and her empty pee bucket.  She would know if I boiled the water “bien hervida” if the coffee did not have white foam nesting on the top.  If you’ve ever made a cup of instant Sanka you know to what I’m referring.  At the end of the evening, I would again prepare the cup of coffee.  I can still that almost translucent white cup with a brown border along the rim.

As an adult, when I started waking up to making my own coffee, I’d arrange my cup next to my spoon, next to my sugar, and I’d wait for the water to be “bien hervida”.  I reflected that I may have turned into my grandmother – although I don’t use a pee bucket at night and I don’t smoke.  But it wasn’t until I heard this man, with his Puerto Rican twang, talking about his late night coffee that I realized, Aha, that’s it.  It’s not weird like so many point out, “Won’t that keep you up all night?” “How can you drink coffee at this hour?”

At a time in my life where so much is still changing, nothing has yet settled, and I’m finding the time to identify my identity, this tiny blip on the radio – this man sharing his loss of drinking his late night comfort cup of coffee made me feel connected. There are others out there that share my love of a late night cup of coffee and staying up late – even at the end of a long day.

It’s these tiny blips on my radar that keep me sane.  Understanding and realizing that I live in a space where there are few like me.  I find solace in these blips.  I’ll keep a look out for more.