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Morning Coffee — August 22, 2026. We’re Taking Mom Home Today

August 22, 2026August 22, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Coffee is that wonderful drink that calms the soul—without calming you so much that you wake up the next morning with your best friend asking, “Do you remember what you did last night?”

Drink coffee. Lots of coffee. Your reputation may depend on it. ☕

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026

August 22, 2026

There are mornings when coffee is simply coffee.

And then there are mornings when you wrap both hands around the cup because you need something steady to hold.

This is one of those mornings.

Today, we are taking Mom home.

Before we reach Binger, I want her final journey to pass through some of the places that belong to our family’s story.

We will travel near Sentinel, Oklahoma, past the country where her parents made their home in the 1930s.

Then we will continue toward Cordell.

That’s where I was born.

I find something deeply meaningful about carrying my mother past the place where she once carried me. While raising my sister. Along with other other siblings.

Then we will travel east toward Binger.

There, at Binger Murray Cemetery, my mother will finally be laid to rest beside my father, JD Groff.

For so many years, they traveled through life together. They raised a family. They worked. They struggled. They laughed. They disagreed. They grew older.

Life wasn’t perfect.

Families seldom are.

rural canadian landscape with red farmhouse and wind turbines — _{^{Photo by Guriqbal Billing on Pexels.com}}

But their lives became part of ours, and whatever else can be said about the years behind us, one truth remains:

They were Mom and Dad.

Today, Steve will be beside me. Otis will have completed his special assignment. Family and friends will gather. Words will be spoken. Memories will be shared.

And eventually there will come a moment when there is nothing left for me to do except say goodbye.

Or perhaps not goodbye.

Maybe simply:

We got you here, Mom.

You’re home.

This morning’s coffee is for everyone who has ever had to make that final journey with someone they love.

Drink it slowly.

Remember them well.

And when the time comes, let them go with love.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

Morning Coffee — Morning Coffee — August 21, 2026

August 21, 2026August 12, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

“We are remembering our mother over coffee this year. It is her first birthday since she has been gone—the first birthday we have not been able to celebrate with her. But we will celebrate her, remembering the life she lived and the memories she left behind.”

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026

August 21, 2026

This morning’s coffee tastes a little different.

We’re in Oklahoma.

^{_{Marjorie and her sister Opal Mae Burke}}

Yesterday, Steve and I carried my mother across the miles, with Otis faithfully keeping watch beside her. Somewhere along the way, the landscape began changing into something familiar.

Home.

It’s an interesting word, isn’t it?

We spend much of our lives deciding where home is. We move. We build lives elsewhere. We find people we love and create new homes with them. Yet there are places buried so deeply within us that merely seeing the countryside can awaken memories we didn’t realize were still there.

Today, Mom rests in Elk City.

It is a town woven into Steve’s and my story because this is where we met in 1982. We couldn’t have known then where the road ahead would take us.

And we certainly couldn’t have imagined that more than forty years later we would return together carrying my mother on the final miles of her journey.

Tomorrow will be different.

Tomorrow we will travel through country filled with family history.

We will take Mom near Sentinel, past the land where her parents made their home during the 1930s. We will continue toward Cordell, where my own story began, and then east toward Binger—the community where so much of our family’s life unfolded.

Tomorrow, my mother’s journey ends beside my father.

But not today.

Today is for remembering.

Today is for another cup of coffee, another Oklahoma morning, and the realization that sometimes going home isn’t about returning to a house.

Sometimes it is simply about returning to the people and places that made us who we are.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

☕ Morning Coffee ––– Leave a Little Room for Something Good

August 17, 2026August 12, 2026Benjamin1 Comment

Don’t decide how the day will end before it has even begun. This morning’s coffee is a reminder to move yesterday’s worries over and leave a little room at the table for something good.

August 17, 2026

We sometimes wake up already expecting trouble.

guests at the restaurant tables — _{^{Photo by Joaquin Carfagna on Pexels.com}}

Before our feet touch the floor, we are thinking about yesterday’s problems, today’s responsibilities, and tomorrow’s worries.

Then we pour the coffee and carry all of them to the table with us.

That is quite a crowd for so early in the morning.

I wonder how many good things we miss because we have already decided what kind of day we are going to have.

We tell ourselves the meeting will be difficult.

The person won’t call.

The answer will be no.

Traffic will be terrible.

Something will probably go wrong.

And sometimes we’re right.

But not always.

Every now and then, life surprises us.

The telephone rings, and it is someone we have been thinking about.

A stranger holds the door and smiles.

Someone says something kind when we need to hear it most.

A problem we have worried about for days works itself out with surprisingly little trouble.

Or maybe nothing dramatic happens at all.

Maybe the sun simply comes through the kitchen window at just the right angle, the coffee tastes especially good, and for a few minutes everything feels all right with the world.

Those little moments count too.

We cannot control everything waiting for us today. There will always be things we would rather avoid and circumstances we cannot change.

But we can leave a little room for the possibility that something good might happen.

Hope doesn’t require us to pretend that difficulties don’t exist.

It simply asks us not to decide the ending before the day has had a chance to begin.

So while you’re sitting there with your coffee this morning, move yesterday’s worries over just a little bit.

You don’t have to throw them away.

Just don’t give them the whole table.

Save an empty chair for something unexpected.

Leave a little room for laughter.

Leave a little room for kindness.

Leave a little room for somebody to surprise you.

And most of all, leave a little room for something good.

Because this day hasn’t happened before.

You don’t know everything it is bringing with it.

Don’t let yesterday convince you that you already know how today will end.

Now take another sip.

Morning has only just arrived.

Let’s give it a chance.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

☕ Morning Coffee ––– The Things We Carry Forward

August 10, 2026August 9, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Monday August 10, 2026

Good morning, my friends ––

white ceramic mug with coffee — _{^{Photo by Andrew Neel on Pexels.com}}

Pour yourself a cup of coffee, settle into your favorite chair, and let’s spend a few quiet moments together.

Every day, we carry a little something forward from yesterday.

Sometimes it’s a worry we should have left behind. Sometimes it’s a wonderful memory we hope never to lose. And sometimes it’s something another person gave us without even realizing it—a kind word, a little encouragement, or simply the feeling that somebody cared.

We carry those things with us.

That’s worth remembering today because you may be the person who gives someone else something good to carry into tomorrow.

A smile costs nothing. Neither does listening for another minute when someone needs to talk. A few words of encouragement may seem small when we offer them, but to the person receiving them, they might be exactly what was needed.

So while you’re finishing your coffee this morning, think about what you’d like to leave behind when today is over.

Leave a little kindness.

Leave someone smiling.

Leave somebody feeling a little better because your paths happened to cross.

We don’t always get to choose what tomorrow brings, but we can choose what goodness we send ahead to meet it.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

The Ordinary Things: Chapter Three, The Coffee Pot Misses Long Conversations

July 30, 2026July 30, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026

July 30, 2026

The Coffee Pot Misses Long Conversations

The coffee pot has noticed something.

The coffee still brews.

**– The Day The Music Died – These days…**
**The coffee is often poured into insulated cups.**
**The lids go on before the first sip.**
**People carry it out the door.**
**The kitchen grows quiet almost as quickly as it filled with the smell of fresh coffee.**
**The coffee pot doesn’t mind traveling mugs.**
**It simply misses the moments that stayed behind…**

The familiar aroma still drifts through the kitchen.

Morning still arrives.

But the conversations…

They’ve become shorter.

There was a time when no one hurried to finish the first cup.

Neighbors stopped by “for just a minute.”

That minute often became an hour.

Someone would refill a mug without asking.

Another chair would be pulled up to the table.

No one seemed to mind.

The coffee pot certainly didn’t.

It knew another story was about to begin.

It remembers laughter that echoed through the kitchen.

Children interrupting grown-up conversations.

Grandparents telling stories for the hundredth time.

No one complained.

Someone always wanted to hear them again.

The coffee pot listened quietly.

It learned that stories weren’t really about yesterday.

They were gifts for tomorrow.

These days…

The coffee is often poured into insulated cups.

The lids go on before the first sip.

People carry it out the door.

The kitchen grows quiet almost as quickly as it filled with the smell of fresh coffee.

The coffee pot doesn’t mind traveling mugs.

It simply misses the moments that stayed behind.

It wonders…

When did we become too busy for one another?

A warm cup has never solved every problem.

But it has softened many difficult conversations.

It has welcomed strangers.

Comforted grieving friends.

Celebrated new beginnings.

And quietly reminded people that someone cared enough to sit down beside them.

Perhaps that was the real purpose of the coffee.

The coffee pot has discovered something after all these years.

People rarely remember how good the coffee tasted.

They remember who shared it with them.

Closing Thought

Life isn’t measured by how quickly we finish the cup.

It’s measured by who was sitting across the table.

Look around your home. Every ordinary thing has a story. Sometimes, it’s really about us.