Good to the Last Drop

 (I lost a dear friend to a drunk driver 2 weeks ago. This is for her)

Your letter finally came today. Through the back channels of the postal system, across continents and over oceans it made it back to me, but you did not. I feel both gratitude for this final note from you, and at the same time deep resentment for this dog eared scrap of paper that has survived, when you, my oldest friend , have not.
From a café in Morocco, you wrote to me your final words. While sipping an ancient family brew, from a hand thrown vessel, in a land where coffee is more than a stimulant, but rather a communal sharing of life with each sip. Now, thousands of miles and hours away I sit with your postcard in one hand and my Styrofoam cup of instant coffee in the other.
I feel desperate to find deep meaning or symbolism within your final words, but the script keeps swimming before my eyes.
GREETINGS From MOROCCO!
Seeing your familiar handwriting takes my breath away. Suddenly it’s all too much and I find it incomprehensible that you are gone. Life should not be as disposable as a crumpled cup of coffee.
According to Yasmeen, the café owner, you had just finished your letter to me and your final cup of coffee, when you headed out for the airport. With a final laugh and wave goodbye you turned into the street as an old van came careening into your space. It was impossible for you to avoid, and your death was almost immediate.
The papers call it a double tragedy for it was a fellow American traveler that was behind the wheel. But the real tragedy is that it was completely preventable. The man who took your life was DWI, intoxicated and driving with a suspended license. He walked away without a scratch.
I finally read my postcard and smile at the scrawled message full of hope and promise in the simple text: "My best trip yet, but it will be even better next time 'cause you will be here too! Shalom soul sister!"
You were the one to first introduce me to coffee as a many splendored thing: low acid, fair trade, mellow, rich, full bodied, French pressed, organic etc. And yet you could happily share gas station sludge on our many road trips. And that, in a coffee bean, sums you up.

Expect Nothing
But
Appreciate Everything
Life isn’t fair but it’s still good (to the last drop).

We miss you Tammy