It was on a Wednesday in early spring when Carla woke up dead.
Since she did not realize the seriousness of her situation, she went about her normal routine. She headed for the kitchen where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air with tantalizing familiarity.
The coffee pot with a timer had been a birthday gift from her very busy son, Robert. He had loved coffee from the first day he stole a sip as a youngster. Throughout his childhood he surreptitiously drank from Carla’s cup until she acknowledged his craving and proffered a mug of the captivating liquid to accompany his breakfast. Coffee became the beverage of choice not only for breakfast, but for discussing life’s issues, both big and small. A mug of hot coffee had been an invitation to talk. In recent years visits were few, conversations fewer and the coffee pot a sad reminder.