Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Wednesday Morning Coffee

Forgive me for being nostalgic about NYC, but it's probably going to take a bit to get it all out of my system. 
Although more likely, it probably never will. And I'm OK with that.
I've always been nostalgic and sentimental and that's probably not changing any time soon. 
I love remembering stories and experiences and travels and lessons.  And that is a big way that we grow and learn from the past and are able to be thankful for the journey the Lord has brought us on- or through.

Anyway, this morning I am thinking back to my Wednesday mornings for the past 2 and a half years.
They were spent at Juliano's coffee shop on the Upper East Side, a short walk from our apartment. 

Wednesday is 1/2 Price Cappuccino Day and they have the best cappuccino's complete with a sprinkle of cinnamon and chocolate on top.  

A dear friend and I would meet every week about 7:30am and spend on hour catching up on the week and talking about books we were reading and encouraging each other and remembering ways we could be praying for the other. 

I always left feeling so uplifted and thankful to the Lord for his provision in good friends.

The baristas knew us and knew our orders, which is always a happy thing.  I remember the day I told them I had to start drinking decaf because I was pregnant.  They saw me come back larger and larger each week all the up until the Wednesday before Caedmon was born. 

Then I think I missed one week and was back for the next. My first outing alone with Caedmon was to Juliano's that Wednesday.  They were very happy to see the little bundle wrapped up in the Moby.

He slept while I read and it was delightful.  Then we walked home again in the cold, all bundled up and glad to have accomplished getting out of the house (something that I didn't think was going to be possible the first few days of his life).

Coffee shops are such interesting places. We would see many of the same people every Wednesday morning, including Katie Couric who came in after her tennis lessons, no makeup and hair pulled up in a cute little pony-tail.  

There was a group of really mix-matched people who seemed like unlikely friends but they had a "Reserved" table in the back and I think sat there every single day. 

There were several older men reading their papers, and a group of three mom's who had just dropped their kids off at private school. And there was always a young mother with her son who ordered a muffin.

I said goodbye the morning before we moved, and was quite sad to do so. I sure hope I will get to be back sipping one of their delicious drinks again soon.

I'm so thankful for moments like those.