Coffee Anyone?

The other day, a friend of mine said

"I just want a day where I can sit and enjoy a cup of coffee without having to rush off anywhere."

A couple of days after that, another friend reminded us all to

"Stop and smell the coffee."

While I haven't been able to drink coffee for 25 years,

I still like the idea of sitting on the deck or at the kitchen table

while drinking coffee, visiting with a friend or just enjoying

the early morning sunrise. It's the opportune time to reflect on the past or appreciate the present.

Today, I'd like to share my morning contemplations with you.

You see, tomorrow, Monday, Sept. 20 marks the one year anniversary of my sisters liver transplant.  She needed this transplant through no fault of her own.

This day, a year ago, I questioned whether or not I'd be able to say I have a sister.

Things were looking pretty bleak for her.

Her memory was fading, she suffered from severe fatigue and often times,

her speech was slurred and her thoughts were muddled.

I'm sure there was more going on that I wasn't able to see first hand.

Only Valerie knows what it was really like in those days.

But thanks to a young boys family, whom made the ultimate sacrifice upon his death, my sister was given a second chance at life.

I am here to attest to the fact that she, indeed, deserved that second chance.

She has a beautiful, caring, giving spirit that the world benefits from.

Fortunately, I do too.  She is my sister, after all.

So today I have a few requests for you, dear readers.

1)Please pray for the donors family in what must be a very difficult anniversary for them.

2)  If you are not an organ donor, please consider doing so the next time you need to renew your license.  It really can save someones life.

3)  Stop and smell the flowers.  Have a cup of coffee on the deck.  Call and tell someone you love them. 

Tomorrow, my sister is going to celebrate her anniversary of life.

Those closest to her will join her.

While I won't be able to be with her,

I will be there in spirit.

So today, I am telling her these things:

I'm glad she's still here.

I'm glad she's the fighter that she is.

She has taught me grace under pressure.

Her star shines brightly, once again.

I'm glad she's my sister.

And of course,

I'm telling her I love her.

I love you, Val!

And so do my kids.