When Bitterness Became Sweet

I was never one of those who start their morning with a cup of coffee, nor among those who see its darkness as warmth and its bitterness as solace. Throughout my life, coffee passed by me like a passerby; I didn’t reach out for it nor thought of tasting it, as if there was a silent distance between us for no reason. I used to see my parents – may God rest my father's soul and protect my mother – gathering around their cups every morning, exchanging conversations as if coffee were a small bridge reconnecting them to one heart. I always wondered: How could all this love gather around a bitter drink? And why does coffee seem delicious in their hands despite its harsh taste?

Then came the day when my father passed away… the morning music in the house broke, and my mother was left pouring coffee into two cups; one for memory, and the other for life. The scene hurt my heart more than the loss itself, as if coffee had lost half of its soul with his departure.

That’s when I decided to get close to this drink that had remained strange to me. To drink coffee as my father loved it, and as my mother loves it… as if I were reclaiming something from both of them in every sip. At the moment the coffee touched my lips, I felt that I wasn’t tasting a drink, but rather a complete memory… the scent of home, the sound of laughter, and the shadows of a presence that had not faded away.

As days passed, coffee became a habit… then it turned into a story. I discovered that its bitterness was merely a cover, and inside it lay a sweetness that only appears when shared with those you love. I realized that the small details are what create the beauty of life, and that coffee is not just a drink, but a ritual of love and gratitude. What was bitter became sweet, and what was ordinary became an exceptional detail carrying the mark of those we love.

I learned a deep lesson from coffee: that things do not change by themselves; rather, we are the ones who change our perspective on them. And that bitterness can be more beautiful when we sip it near a hand that loves us, or a memory that gives us strength, or a mother who is the scent of paradise on earth.

I have come to adore its scent as if it were the incense of memory, and I feel it is a partner to my letters and words, accompanying me in my solitude, my writing, and my musings. I no longer see its bitterness; rather, I see in it the warmth of my father, the reassurance of my mother, and the safety of the moment when I learn how to create my happiness from the simplest of details.

Coffee has become not just my favorite drink, but also the only bitterness I accept with satisfaction… because it shapes my mood and reminds me that life, even when harsh, is capable of gifting us from the heart of bitterness something that feels exactly like sweetness.

Drink your coffee… and pay attention to the details that shape your life.