If we were having coffee, I would tell you how much I’ve missed this. The coffee and you. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed sitting down over coffee or a meal and discussing life and death and successes and failures. I have missed driving and warmth and friendship and the ruse that is happiness.

If we were having coffee, I would tell you that I haven’t given up. That I still plug along every day with the intention of moving in the right direction. But movement is slow and messy. The two steps forward three steps back thing has prevented me from getting to my goal as quickly as I would like, and I am frustrated.

If we were having coffee, we would discuss how frustration appears as red lines cracking through the grays of the moment. The color has drained, but I know it is still there. I can see it shining through the cracks.

If we were having coffee, I would listen to all that has changed in your life since we last spoke. I would listen for the moments that sparked joy and the issues that held you back. I would talk you through the sad times and wish for you a smooth road ahead.

If we were having coffee, we might discuss the light that shines through the dreariness of winter and reminds us of the hope and promise of spring. We might touch on the light that shines through the darkness of my mind and reminds me that the path I’m on, though not always easy or straight, is the right one. Definitely the right one.

If we were having coffee, I would ask you about your biggest fears. I would tell you about my children, and I would reveal that my biggest fears revolve around the fact that I want my children to be happy and fulfilled. And I often fret over whether I’ve done enough to set them on the path that will lead them in the right direction. How can a single parent ever do enough?

If we were having coffee, I would talk to you about some of my students. I would share stories about what these young adults have already accomplished. I would mention their ground-breaking achievements, their contributions to their community, their passion for helping others, and the struggles that have held them back from being even more amazing. I would tell you that these kids give me hope for the future, and that the world will be in good hands when this generation comes of age and begins to lead the world.

If we were having coffee, I might accidentally cry a bit, but I would tell you I was sorry for not holding myself together. Sometimes I feel missed opportunity as sharp rocks on the path of my journey. Sometimes I feel the happiness, the loneliness, and the joy so deeply that I cannot keep them contained in my body. They spill out of my eyes as warm tears and deep sobs. Sometimes. It doesn’t mean I am sorrowful or upset. It simply means I am still alive and experiencing the richness of life.

If we were having coffee, we would talk about storytelling and how important it is to tell stories for connection and vulnerability. I would encourage you to share your own story widely and in meaningful ways. I would remind you that you are unique and the world needs you. And I would let you know that I am here to listen any time you need me.

When we are done with our coffee and we are sweeping aside the crumbs of our chosen snack, I will be sure to tell you how much I enjoyed our time together. We might even set a date for our next coffee. Hopefully, it won’t be so long between coffee dates this time. After all, life is short and I’ve missed you.