The modern coffee maker is a   brilliant invention. Sleek. Stylish. Compact. Essential.

It’s function is simple. Put your ground coffee of choice into the filter. Pour water into the reservoir. Push a button, and wha-la, you get hot coffee. Every single time.

I can’t begin to explain our dependency on coffee. It’s a disturbing reality that anything so unassuming could set the mood for the day. But just let there be no coffee one morning and see what happens.

Panic ensues. The day is a wreck without a cup of coffee.

I can tell you that people all over the globe are hooked on coffee just as much as we are. It’s not just an American addiction.

There are no Mr. Coffee pots in the hills of Oaxaca or the bushlands of Zimbabwe. I have been to both places. Yet,  open pots of coffee are heated over a fire every day.

Linda Vista coffee is home grown and stout enough to bring a body back from the grave.

I didn’t start drinking coffee until I was in my late twenties. It quickly became a regular morning obsession. After taking care of the first urge of the day, my second inclination is to pour myself a cup.

For the last 40 years, my day has started with coffee.

When I first met Marion, she made fun of me for the way I was using my modern coffee machine. I’d get the filter, ground coffee, and water together; push the brew button and wait.

“Doesn’t your pot have a timer on it?” she asked.

Of course it did, but I could never figure out how to set it up. She gave me so much grief for not taking advantage of the technology that she shamed me into figuring it out.

The timer has been a game changer for me. “I’m such an idiot,” I thought. Having coffee ready and waiting on me each morning is like hitting the jackpot.

That was nearly a year and a half ago. She still checks with me on the days we’re apart.

“Did you make your coffee yet?”

It’s her way of looking out for me. It’s also her way of reminding me that she has taught me things that improve my quality of life.

This is why the rest of this story is so sweet to my soul.

She’d had a long day. She left my house at 7am to head back to Newnan to take care of some work and other pressing obligations.

That was a Tuesday. Wednesday was going to be even more demanding.

So, when she finally got to her house that afternoon, she started preparations for the next day. She had bills to pay. Supplies to gather up. There was housework to finish.

She is good at multitasking, but not perfect.

I called her.

“What are you working on tonight?”

“I’ve got a cheesecake in the oven for lunch tomorrow at church.”

One of the downfalls of multitasking is that, sometimes, little details can fall through the crack. Important steps can get overlooked.

So, I asked her “Have you made up your coffee pot, yet?”

Coffee is important enough that we check with each other on this matter.

“Yes,” she says. “I did that before I put the cake in the oven.”

She sets her timer to go off at 5am. Yes, she’s retired. Yes, she’s a driven woman.

She got to the kitchen the next morning and all she had in her carafe was a pot of clear hot water.

“Dang it!”

This was not a good start to the day.

“I guess I got to chasing squirrels and forgot to pour the water into the reservoir.”

She said this through tight lips.

She then poured the water from the pot into the reservoir.

“I’ll be like you,” she said. I’ll just have to wait on it.”

Waiting on coffee to brew at 5:30am is akin to waiting on paint to dry. Your mind has time to ponder all your mistakes in life.

Like forgetting to put water in the reservoir.

With great sympathy, I expressed my concern for her well-being.

Not really. I laughed out loud and taunted her for not knowing how to operate a coffee pot.

“Wait,” she said. “There’s more.”

She went on to other things while her coffee pot gurgled away. Putting a load of clothes in the washer. Writing a card to a friend. Working out a plan to save the global economy.

Her normal everyday chores

When she heard the coffee pot beep, she went back to the kitchen. Her body past ready for coffee. By now, she was twitchy and on edge.

One problem. The pot, once again, was full of clear hot water.

She said that she was not responsible for what went through her mind and out of her mouth at that point. Caffeine deprivation is a serious problem among those with high energy personalities.

Determination set in.

She slid the filter cup out of its slot. It was empty; no coffee, not even a filter.

“I guess I got distracted last night when I was working on my cheesecake.”

Again, I was empathetic.

“You think?”

But she was not to be denied her morning coffee. She inserted a filter, loaded it with coffee, and poured the water from the carafe back into the reservoir.

A third time, not that I’m counting.

You might not know this. A coffee maker that has just finished a brew cycle acts funny when you pour hot water into the reservoir.

File this tidbit away.

A hot coffee maker that gets hot water does not wait to start another brew cycle. As clear water goes in the back, brown water comes out the front. At the same time.

This surprised Marion.

This typically calm and in charge lady, from the way it was described to me, became highly animated.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“What do you think I did? I waited on my cup of coffee and cleaned up the mess later.”

These new-fangled coffee machines sure are complicated.