A Tale of Two Personalized Coffee Mugs
Today I’m 48 years old, and I want to tell you a little story about two mugs. More than likely you’ve seen a personalized photo mug, but you may not know how they can affect your life. This is why I want to share my story with you.
Almost 30 years ago now, my mother gave me a personalized photo mug as one of my college graduation gifts. Mine had a picture of my mom beaming and giving me a thumbs up. That year, I gave her one of these mugs for her birthday; it had a picture of me and a message of best wishes on her birthday. The mug she gave me became my regular daily coffee mug and is still one of my favorite things.
Each morning when I went to have my coffee, I’d take my personalized photo mug down out of the cabinet and have my morning coffee. My father and I live quite a long ways apart from each other, but each morning I felt close to him as I enjoyed my coffee. I’d look at his face on the mug and remember happy times together when I was a kid. Somehow I felt that I got to talk to him each day.
After all the enjoyment I had from my personalized coffee mug, I just had to get him one for that Christmas. I had my picture put on it and wrapped it up. I remember the smile on his face when he opened my gift. I put in a note about how much I enjoyed my cup and let him know I hoped he enjoyed his as well.
My dad used that mug every day, just like I did. In a way, we were still having coffee together every morning even though we were hundreds of miles apart. My mom also started using hers daily – and my sister was soon clamoring for one of her own.
My dad passed about six months ago now and when I went back to St. Louis to see my mom, she told me that there was something which he’d wanted me to have. She went and retrieved the mug and I’ll admit I got a little misty eyed when I saw how much that mug had been used for all of those years. Seems dad had loved his mug just like I had mine.
I have both mugs in my cupboard now, where they sit right next to each other. Every morning when I have my coffee, I still use the mug my mom gave me and I get the other out as well. I can’t stand the thought of the two mugs being apart. It feels like she’s right there with me in the mornings – and sometimes I call my dad as I have my coffee and there we are, having coffee together again after all these years.
