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Greater Portland EditionHeadlinersWillamette Valley Edition

 Coffee with Dad

By Christina Keys

I remember when my father first passed I was so angry and sad. I had less than 2 minutes to say goodbye to him and no privacy. All I could come up with is “I love you so much and there will be lots of Banana pudding with vanilla wafers in heaven.“

The months that followed I was a wreck; I begged God to let me know he was still with me and doing ok in heaven.

As the first Father’s Day approached every store or advertisement was a gut punch. . . then I walked into a pharmacy and saw this cup with “Super Dad” on it. I stood in the aisle, tears welling in my eyes, wishing I could send him this cup. I took it to the counter still fighting back tears.

When I got it to my car, I took it out, held it, and with tears running down my face, I said, “Happy Father’s Day Dad.”

The next morning, I got my coffee and used his cup. As I sat on the back porch having coffee with the memories of him, finally a tiny bit of light and comfort rose above the anger and sadness. Finally I got to share a special moment with my Dad who I missed so much. I remembered his laughter, and the way he would sound when he said, “God Damn it Tina!” (he said that a lot lol), how he loved the sound of birds and how his favorite song was now mine.

Toward the end, when he was on the phone with me he would always ask for five more minutes.

So many mornings since, out of all my coffee cups (I have way too many), I reach for his “Super Dad” cup and sit on the back porch listening to the birds.

We have our coffee and share five more minutes.

Love you always Dad. . . Thank you for NEVER leaving my side. . .  Here’s to our Five More Minutes.

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