After my husband passed away, the mornings felt unbearably empty. The silence, the lack of routine—it all weighed heavily on me. One day, I decided to start making coffee with more intention. I bought beans from different regions, learned about brewing techniques, and found joy in the ritual of it. Every morning, that simple act of grinding, brewing, and sipping became my moment of solace. The aroma, the warmth—it brought me a strange comfort I wasn’t expecting. It became my way of starting the day with peace, one cup at a time.
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