Love is the rich aroma of perfectly roasted coffee merged with the sweet fragrance of yesterday’s memories, the delicate promises that needed to be fulfilled, and the heady scent of today’s possibilities. Staring at their reflection, the young woman marveled at how the mind could brew such an intoxicating blend within a matter of seconds when it could take forever unraveling the mystery of misplaced car keys. More often than not, found hiding somewhere inside the cluttered wicker basket labeled “boring.” The safe-haven for lost necessities. She disliked its chaotic appearance and the feeling of “ho-hum” that it represented. Forever wrestling with the contagious feeling of joy that invigorated anyone who sat around her table as she revisited past adventures and misadventures. Surely the makings of a great book.
She was convinced that angels had brought her into this world and was confident, she would leave in the same fashion. Believing those same angels continued to guard over she and her family, from a polite distance, naturally. The beginning of each chapter would be conceived and written at her table, with the welcoming aroma of morning coffee faithfully wakening all her senses. The essence of her autobiography would be “about love,” and its sweet fragrance of yesterday’s memories the delicate promises that lingered, and the heady scent of a life well lived. Its theme would be embedded in the hearts of anyone who had visited her kitchen. In the end, she would dedicate this book to her Father. The Author who had given her life and taught her all she knew and had shared “about love.”