The coffee cart was my bridge between home and work before the pandemic. No matter the weather, I could count on the coffee cart to be there when I needed them. My coffee guy knew I was popping out of the subway at 9:15 am. My coffee guy knew I was having a large coffee with cream and sugar.

Compassion, love, and lunch were delivered those Sunday afternoons when I placed my friend’s lunch on the counter and gave her a hug. That love was reciprocated when volunteers dropped off Thanksgiving dinner at my house.

Gifts are talents we are meant to share with the world. Lessons are challenges we are meant to overcome. Gifts and lessons continue over time, inviting you to continually evolve into a better version of yourself.

On a typical day, I find the fleeting moments that spark joy and gratitude. They’re in my cup of coffee, my Zoom calls with friends, and in my homemade meals. Since my niece’s death, I struggled to find those mindful moments.

Racism introduced itself to me in kindergarten class. My teacher invited the invisible guest in our classroom and it took up residence.

Like clockwork, I call my mom every night around 10:30 pm. Her mild-to-moderate Alzheimer’s has affected her memory; however, her spidey mom senses are still super sharp. When we talk, she can tell if I am happy, sad, tired or worried.

A month ago, I spent a Saturday afternoon cleaning out my refrigerator. After discarding the science experiments and other unidentified food objects, I wiped the shelves clean. The only thing left in the refrigerator was the light bulb

Until recently, the word ancestor conjured up visions of distant relatives who lived solely on the pages of old photo albums. As of late, the word has serendipitously surfaced in my day-to-day. It played a starring role in the movie, Black Panther, it appeared in an acceptance speech I heard recently, and it peppered itself in casual conversations regarding family history.