Poem: God in the Coffee
A stop between visits. Between patients. Between lives
that mingle with yours on a daily basis, love and loneliness
and a flock of stories.
“This was the first of many disappointments,” she said
“This was such a loss,” he said.
“You never leave the brokenness behind..” she says.
“I loved that job.” She said.
And more. Every aspect of life in a day. Love. Sex.
Sadness. Loss. The experience of fading, becoming less,
trying to understand how to build on what is left,
to find purpose in it. Meaning. Value.
I listen. I encourage. I talk, every day, to myself
each time I talk to someone else, knowing,
feeling everything they feel in my own life of 67 years
and counting. Counting that life less in what
than in lives touched, even if only for an hour at a time,
sipping coffee in between, letting emotions settle,
gathering strength in the comfortable anonymity
of another coffee ship. God it appears, lives there too.
About this poem
This one is personal, as I am a Methodist Pastor and a spiritual counselor for Bayada Hospice, but anyone who serves others can likely relate. Or anyone aging. Or anyone who has cared for someone aging. Or… Yeah, it is a pretty broad brush.
None of the quotes are actual quotes, but. are emblematic of what I hear all the time. I would never betray a confidence.
Be well. Travel wisely,