Spilled Coffee

I made plans to meet friends for coffee this morning. It is the first time I have had coffee in an actual coffee shop in over a year. I wasn’t sure I could do it. I felt anxiety. A year of isolation with the pandemic and death of Michaela.

As I was getting ready I had a little scene play out in my head of me spilling coffee one of the friends. Driving there I thought I should start our coffee off with apologizing for when I spill coffee on him, but I didn’t want to sound like a weirdo. 

We are talking and laughing. Having a good coffee and sure enough there I go and spill coffee across the table as it splattered to the edges and dripped on to the friend I had imagined it would.

Deja Vu’s happen to me quite a bit so that wasn’t surprising, but what really was surprising for this coffee was how much I talked about Michaela. I worry that it is going to be like spilling coffee on my people.

I will be talking about my person - Michaela. Bringing her up often as it is what makes me feel close to her even without her here. I am not trying avoid the black hole in my life. In doing so though, I wonder if the people I am talking to feel like I just spilled a cup in coffee on them and they are scrambling to get away from the mess.

I know most of the people in my circle won’t feel that way, but maybe some? I hope they can understand my need to keep Michaela in my present.