The comforting aroma of fresh coffee fills the morning air as my mom brews my grandmother her daily cup of coffee. As long as I can remember, my grandmother, Lola, would start her day with a hot cup of coffee in her signature cup. The cup is made of delicate white porcelain with a faded gold edge from years of use. Measuring two and a half inches tall and three inches wide, the size proved perfect; even in her final years, the cup fits perfectly in her frail hands. Even as Lola began to forget who she was and what was important, her cup of coffee in the morning remained consistent and something she always remembered. The saucer the cup lays on is 5 inches long, sharing the same delicate white porcelain and faded gold edge, with a slight chip on the edge from decades of love and use. The cup and plate both feature green and magenta roses, adding a floral accent found on many of Lola’s belongings.
Along with her cup and saucer is the rest of her collection of stuff to make coffee. Her colador, or cloth filter, measures eight inches long and four inches deep. The colador’s handle is white, with the cloth stained from coffee and a gradient getting darker towards the bottom, where Lola would use her hands to twist out the fresh coffee. There are two pots: the metal pot measures six by six inches and three inches tall, and the glass pot measures five by five inches and 3 inches tall. The metal pot where she would boil and stir her fresh coffee grinds has a rough feeling to it; there are cracks all around the silver body and a rusting handle. The glass pot is heavier and stained with a light brown film; there’s a spout on the edge, which she would use to pour out her freshly boiled milk. Finally is her tall kettle pot, storing all her freshly brewed coffee for the day. It stands just shy of six inches tall and five by five inches wide. There is some discoloration and fading of the metal, sharing the same rough feeling as the metal pot, and the handle stays held together with black tape. Lola would use all these items together in perfect harmony, as the sounds of the coffee grinding and boiling water created her melody.
This set was eventually passed on to my mother. Entering the later stages of her life, Lola came to accept the kitchen was no longer a happy place for her but rather a source of stress. My mom wanted to give Lola the same sense of love and security she felt growing up, so she took care of her. Every day, she would use the same items to make Lola her coffee, remembering Lola’s joy in the kitchen and her smile while doing what she loved. Lola passed when she was 99 years old, after decades of the same routine, I wonder what everything looked like when she first got it. I wish I could ask her more about the story behind these items, why the handle has tape on it, or how her plate got chipped. Her cup now stays in the China closet in the dining room. It is one small piece of her, and it serves as a reminder of many things. It is a reminder of family, the safe place they create for you, and the love they have to care for you. A reminder to not take things for granted. That one day, we won’t be able to do what we love and will need to turn to the people we love for help. One day, you won’t be able to make your cup of coffee.
The Materials of History, Thought, and Art 
This is such a beautiful piece of writing! As someone who is helping/ taking care of their grandmother and her battle with alzheimer’s disease, this writing really struck home for me. While my grandmother loves her coffee with a lot of sugar, I just love how you not only described this object(s) but also took the reader through the step and process of how she created her coffee. Including smell and texture in a narrative way was a beautiful touch to your writing and really drives home a connection.
Thank you for sharing such a wonderful piece!
I love the way you describe the details of the physical features of the objects to perfectly woven in with the memories and descriptions of it being well used. I had never heard of some parts of this particular coffee making process but felt as if I understood it perfectly and could envision it in my head by your descriptions alone. Your photos were just a nice bonus.
On another note, I really enjoyed reading how important this was to you as it reminded me of a tea set I received from my father that was my grandmother’s as well. I used to collect sets but it was the only thing I got especially from her and it looked just like yours except miniature! Mine was a white porcelain with gold lining every edge and rim of the set and flowers painted in the center of the little tray it had and on the sides of the pot and sugar bowl. This was such a sweet writing piece.