a grinding halt

It happened this morning.  The radio was blaring that agonizing morning show with the people I hate, and I began the recovery from a restless night of sleep.  I stumbled into the kitchen and began to prepare some coffee.  I felt lousy, but I hoped that putting something strong, black, hot and wet into a cup would help wake me up.  The beans were already out, sumatra this round, so I picked up the grinder and it sprang to life.  You gave this to me how long ago now?  I think it was Christmas of 1996.  Yes, that's right.  It was after the summer of frozen cappuccinos.  I gave you that amethyst ring, and you gave me a shiny black coffee grinder.  It surprises me that it has been that long.

The grinding done, I flipped the machine to prepare the contents for dumping into the basket.  There was a fresh aroma hanging all around me, and my senses rejoiced.  Then, something slipped and tragedy was at hand.  Tumbling through my groping fingers, letting gravity take hold, and then the blurring of time and space.  Do you remember when I told you about watching that plane crash?  The slow stop-motion, the expectation that any moment fate might look the other way, a scene seared into memory.  One moment of hoping you'll catch hold, another moment of recognizing a lost cause, and then it's over.  The grinder hit the floor, the lid sprang off, and freshly ground coffee sprayed across the kitchen floor, even onto the carpet.  It was so frustrating, but I didn't realize the scope of the incident.  I picked up the machine and lid, and noticed the huge chunk missing from the top.  The machine still works, but not if you want to keep its contents contained.

I swept, vacuumed, put all back in its place.  I miss it already.  I never used it as much as I should, leaving it for long stretches of time in the cabinet or a packing box after a move.  Yet, it was always there.  Such a small thing, I suppose, but the effect of it rippled through my day.  Thank you again for giving it to me.  I have replaced it now, but I will always remember my first coffee grinder.