Day 47: Coffee with a shot of Dad…

“Dad…remembering you is easy, I do it everyday.  Missing you is the heartache that never goes away.” -Anonymous

 

I had my Italian lesson today and decided in true fashion to involve a sweet Italian treat to help allow my senses to enjoy and absorb the Italian experience.  Hopping on a transcontinental flight is not an option, so I had to improvise.  My quest took me in search of an Italian experience, of the authentic espresso kind!

I changed out of my casual clothes and slipped on a fun and flirty summer skirt, a pink cami and tied a small sweater around my shoulders… I slipped on a pair of slingback sandals, grabbed my little black purse and my good friend Siri and off we went in search of the Coffeebar in Truckee, CA.  The drive to Truckee is always a ride I relish as the terrain changes from dry dessert to Tahoe forest with a 1000 ft. elevation climb in just a matter of minutes.  The drive was about 45 minutes, so there was some time to get lost in thought for just a little bit.

As I was driving, I recited the Italian phrases I had just learned and tried to slowly work through some of the more difficult words.  Soon enough, I felt compelled to take the phrases and words I had learned before embarking on my trip, and filed them away to think of more meaningful things.  As I looked out the window, I could see the Truckee River flowing and the mid-day sun hitting the currents as the water rushed downstream.  I couldn’t help but think of my Dad who had passed earlier this year.  He traveled much of Europe and spoke many languages, one of which was Italian.  He was a true survivor and even though he didn’t want to admit it, there was always an adventurous spirit that we all caught a glimpse of now and again.  He would want to just pick up and go on a drive on a Sunday afternoon, or just “go somewhere” to escape the house and his life for just a little while.  I wondered what he would have thought about this Quest if he were here today.  The many questions he would have of the places I have gone, the people I have met and just my overall thoughts.

As stubborn as he was sometimes, he was usually very accepting of trying new things and going new places.  For just one more minute I held onto the sight of him sitting next me in the car with no need for Siri.  He would have been my navigator, never hesitating to tell me where to go or how to drive or commenting on every detail he saw.  I quickly found myself becoming engulfed in memories of the past and missing him ever so…  I wiped the forming tears from my eyes because I knew that is not what he would want to see…  He would always tell me never to cry.  He would tell me to be strong and do what needs to be done.  When I was young, I didn’t quite understand this thought process and today, I completely comprehend it.  There is so much more that can be done when we focus on our goals, push away the distractions, center our spirit and use the strength and determination from within to find a way to reach whatever goals we set.  He was never a man that settled for the word and phrase, “No, it can’t be done”… those words posed a direct challenge to work harder, smarter, and more diligently… to accomplish what others wouldn’t comprehend and triumph in the end.

As I was lost in good thoughts and good memories, Siri started to talk to me again… I had entered Truckee that quickly and she was a good girl today and led me right to the Italian coffeebar in the middle of town.  My initial impression led me to believe this was a place where the locals visit, as it was just off the main street and everyone seemed to know everyone’s name.  The coffeebar had a cute outdoor seating area and the doors were wide open giving the coffeehouse an open airy feel to it.  In the one corner sat a man with his dog lying by his side, there were several people sitting and speaking a foreign language and the barista worked diligently to get the order out, but at his own leisurely pace.

 

As I perused the menu I was pleasantly surprised to see a true Italian menu that I could halfway read and understand confirming that I am comprehending the Italian lessons I have been taking after all!  What a relief!!!   Alas, it was my turn to order.  I arrived at the counter and the cashier took my order: a small caramel macchiato espresso with a lemon bar pastry on the side.  I stepped up to pick up my order and waited as the barista held a friendly conversation with one of the locals.  I remember hearing that in Italy life moves a little slower, life is more relaxed and this was certainly a direct reflection of the lifestyle I had heard about.  I finally received my order.  The pastry on a cream colored ceramic plate and the espresso in an authentic espresso cup with my name on the saucer…  I thought what a fantastic touch and great presentation.  I decided to take my Italian treasures to the outdoor patio and soak up some of the love the sun had to give on this afternoon.

 

As I sat down, I could pick up the scent of the flowers in the small flower patch that sits in front of the coffeebar and that drew my attention and eye.  The patio, with several people engaging in conversation, seemed peaceful and yet quiet.  I sat and had my espresso which seemed to perk me up a bit and my lemon bar was so rich and dreamy that in my usual way, I tried to make every bite last as long as I could.  The lemon was not too tart on the back of the tongue and the sweet powdered sugar left hardly a residue on my lips as I didn’t want to leave any evidence of the sinful pleasure I had delighted in today.

I sat and remembered the coffee that I shared with my Dad and the treats he and I would devour… none of them low-fat and one was never enough!  The conversations we shared centered on politics, religion, controversy, the economy, and humanitarian issues that spanned the world.  He always wanted to know about the exciting things going on in my life and what a treat that was to share.  He would listen intently and I would share pictures of my adventures.  He would never hold back his comment or criticism but he would give me that look of approval and that was all I craved for from him… and his ever tight hugs he would give when it was time to say “Goodbye”.  I always left telling him I loved him because I knew with some of the health conditions he battled through, each visit could be the last.

Anyway, I digress…  My Dad and I would try to solve Middle East peace issues over coffee, but at the end of every conversation, we accepted that our discussions only led us so far.   I wondered what his impression of this supposed authentic Italian coffee house would have been seeing as he had traveled through Italy.  I wondered if he would have approved of the strength of the espresso… or if he would have tried to strike up a conversation with the barista or other patrons as he so liked to do.   It was in that last moment that I almost lost my breath… I realized that although he isn’t with me sitting there, his spirit was a part of my DNA… this Quest… these places… the conversations I make and the stories I share… they are a part of who he was… they are traits from him that remind me that he is always there with me.  All the discussions we held and debated, seeing him interact with others and try new things and go on small new adventures… even if it were only a drive to a city away… this Quest is a bigger extension of that spirit… Perhaps in some way, this is all part of fulfilling a dream of mine that unbeknownst to me, we actually both shared.  As the possible revelation came to mind, I looked down and there were only a couple crumbs gracing the empty ceramic plate with the name “Michele” written in black wax pencil.  The espresso was long gone and I could feel my pulse already had increased from the jolt of caffeine that surged through my body.

The coffeebar turned out to be a quaint little coffee house off a main road in the middle of a town I love to visit.  The espresso, sweet treat, staff, patrons, and even the dainty flowers were just as you would imagine they might be if this café were in the middle of Italy… no need to fly across the pond to visit… today, I had the memories of my navigator that accompanied me on this new adventure.  The trip started with an Italian lesson which led me to an authentic Italian coffee house which included a thoughtful reminder that the ones we lose are never lost if we remember them often!

The espresso was delish, the pastry even better, the setting was simply charming and the memories that carried me through this adventure will always be cherished…

Ancora tanto italiana da imparare! (Still so much Italian to learn!)  Wondering what tomorrow will bring…