I heard that yesterday was National Coffee Day! I have a coffee story for you! I also believe it belongs right here on my genealogy blog.
Let me tell you the story as I type and sip on my coffee this rainy morning.
My dad was fully Swedish. I grew up with most of the traditions of a Swedish-American childhood. My parents, aunts, and uncles, drank a lot of coffee as I grew up. My mom and her friends at the Swedish Covenant church I grew up in fixed huge pots of egg coffee for every church function. I can still remember the aroma of coffee wafting up from the church basement as I descended. It smelled wonderful.
I've always loved the smell of coffee. Imagine my surprise the first time I realized it tasted nothing like it smelled! I figured as I got older, coffee would taste better. Every adult I knew seemed to love it. As I reached my teen years, and sipped it here and there to see if my "adult" taste buds, I realized how different I was from everyone else.
I got married, had children, ordered cokes, "That's my caffeine! Ha ha!" when a friend wanted to meet for coffee. I couldn't stand the taste of coffee! My teaching colleagues would walk the halls early each morning with steaming mugs of coffee. I stocked my classroom fridge with cold, diet Dr Peppers. At family dinners my aunts would wonder if I was really a member of the family. Jokingly, they'd ask me, "How can you be in this family and not drink coffee?" I had no answer for them.
I learned to keep instant coffee in my cabinet to keep my dad from leaving the house early in the morning in search of a cup of coffee every time he visited.
My sister, Laurie, owned a coffee shop for several years. When I'd visit, she'd always say, "Order anything you want!" My eyes would scan the long menu until I'd find the non-coffee drinks. Her smoothies were great but I always felt somewhat like a failure. Maybe I wasn't Swedish at all...
And then it happened. I was in contact with cousins in Sweden! My sister, Kris, and I began planning a trip to Sweden, my retirement trip, and I was so excited to meet Gunnel and her family! One day, I was visiting with a friend who had traveled to Sweden several times. She listed things I could expect when visiting a Swedish home and at the top of the list was something she considered wonderful. "You can expect to be offered coffee at any home you visit." "Oh. Well, what if you don't like coffee?" My friend just stared at me. "Well, I guess you could ask for a glass of water..., The water is very good there."
I went shopping, dragging home a variety of coffees, creamers, syrups, and whatever else I could find. I needed to learn how to drink coffee, fast! I sipped coffee at coffee shops in tiny paper cups. I watched what my friends put in their coffee. I tried a tablespoon of coffee in a cup of milk! Nothing worked! All I could taste was bitterness! If I couldn't make it through a second sip of coffee, how would I survive two weeks in Sweden?
The only strategy I had left was to keep trying every chance I got. I have to admit, I also asked God to heal my taste buds!
The day finally arrived for our trip and as I yet again, ordered coffee, this time on the plane headed for Stockholm, I complained to Kris. As I talked, I added cream and sugar to the coffee the stewardess had handed me. I said, "Kris, watch this." I raised the cup to my lips and took a tiny sip. Kris said, "You can't make that face when we're with our Swedish cousins!"
"I know!" I exclaimed, completely dismayed. "There's something wrong with me!"
By the time we got to Gothenburg, it was lunch time. We found a little cafe in the train station and decided to eat there. I ordered my lunch and coffee and sat down, doctoring the dark liquid with milk and sugar. The salad tasted wonderful! I looked at the pretty white cup filled to the brim with "the enemy." Reassuring myself that I had a bottle of water as a back-up, I lifted the cup and took a sip.
What was this wonderful liquid?!? I took another sip. No bitter, screwed up frown as I swallowed. I was almost more excited to be drinking coffee as I was to be in Sweden!
I ordered coffee every chance I got for the rest of the day! In Sweden, you may find yourself with an opportunity for coffee five or six times a day! They even have a special name for coffee breaks. They call it 'fika' and I fika-ed several times a day that first week!
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| My first cup of coffee in Gothenburg! |
I told Kris that I really must have been broken and needed to "return to my homeland to be reset!" Think what you want, but I believe God might have smiled at my silly prayer and decided to answer it. What better time than with my first cup of coffee in Sweden? I think He knows how to give good gifts, as odd as that sounds, and 'fixed' me. I really have no other explanation for this marvelous little event.
Needless to say, lots of coffee and a little jet lag, might have caused some sleep problems that week. (They do drink their coffee strong in Sweden!) But, it was all worth it!
When I returned home, I tossed the pop and put a cup of coffee in my morning schedule in its place.
That's the story of how I learned to drink coffee!
