I love coffee. My dad loves it too. He can somehow have a cup of the stuff every night without it keeping him up. So I grew up with the aroma wafting through the house. Frankly, I think I love the smell of the stuff even more than the actual drink (though I do love that). When I was little it was a treat when Jay (my dad) would let me push the button on the coffee grinder. And some times he'd bring me along with him when he went to the local gourmet coffee shop. It was a cozy, heavenly smelling place. I remember that Jay used to try the small free samples of whatever the special was that day. The memories are all hazy though...because when I hit fourteen and got involved with the church my coffee days ended and I lost that bonding opportunity with my dad.
I gave up coffee 100% to obey the "Word of Wisdom." But I never stopped loving it. Whenever I would come across a coffee candy or ice cream I would check the ingredient list, desperately hoping it was made with artificial flavor (the only candies I found that were WoW kosher were Jelly Belly Beans and Jelly Belly candy canes). Eventually I started drinking Pero and Postum (roasted barley drinks). But they're not the same.
Now I live nearly 3,000 miles away from my dad. Every time I brew a cup of coffee (decaf, for Lucy's sake) I find myself wishing I were at home sharing a pot of coffee with Jay and making up for lost time.