Mark makes the coffee every morning. I love this. I love it when I walk into the kitchen and he hands me a coffee cup, graced with a splash of half and half, handle side facing me.  All I have to do is grab the handle and bring the mocha colored elixir to my mouth.  The kindness of this simple act, that accentuates the start of each of my days, reminds me how I love being married to Mark and sharing our lives. I feel so blessed to have this tiny family that we have. Our daughter is growing up to be such a delightful young adult. We laugh together now, her childish antics having grown into shared humor.

Of course I miss Tobin constantly. He would be turning 23 this summer. What would he be doing? Finishing college,entering graduate school, starting a career, opening a bakery? I will never know, and this still makes my heart ache. The loss of Tobin is the hole that I will never be able to fill. After he died, his school built him a memorial pond. A man, whom I do not even know, a man not associated with his school, gave his time and expertise to build the pond. Thank you, whoever you are. Everyday I walk past this pond, now grown high with cascading garden. Sometimes rubber balls are floating in the pond, having bounced over the fence during recess. I love this, and it makes me smile that Tobin was once one of those little boys bouncing balls higher and higher. The pond has never replaced him, it is a reminder of him and causes me the bittersweet pain of my grief, but I crave this pain as I crave his memory. Pain has become my friend these last sixteen years.

Last week my dear friend Amy told me a sweet story. She has a daughter who is in eighth grade and another who entered kindergarten this last fall. She told me that her kindergartener came home from schoollast week with information she was burning to tell her.

She said, “Mom do you know that the pond at school was built for a boy who died?” Amy said yes that she knew that. Again her daughter said “The boy was a student at our school and he died IN THE POND!”

Amy gathered her up and said, “No the boy did not die in the pond, the pond was built in memory of the boy. He died of an illness. Do you know who the boy was?”
The daughter said ”No”.

Amy told her,  “Tobin was Kelly and Mark’s son.”
“Kelly and Mark Sanchez!” she yelled.
“Yes” Amy told her

“Well,” she said calmly, “ At least they have another child now.” Then she ran off to play.
I love this story and the childish understanding of life’s mysteries.

Maybe the simple acts of kindness, coffee handed to me handle side out each morning are the fortifications that keep me getting out of bed. The kind comments from customers that they love the fish tacos or our eclairs are additional fortifications. Maybe this is why I want to keep making food that is pleasing to people, setting down the plates  of pastries or cups of coffee handle side out so that people feeltaken care of. I want them to feel that they have been given a piece of happiness each day.

One of the professors at Penn State Ice Cream Short Course had been a fighter pilot in the Pacific during WWII. He told me that he had decided that if he ever got home alive he would dedicate his life to something happy, his choice was ice cream. He spent his entire career at Penn State developing ice cream technology. Penn State even named a vanilla ice cream after him, Keeney Beany.

I know that we strike out sometimes, we all do. The sandwich was made on the wrong bread, or the salad was missing from the to-go order, but we want to make it right, we appreciate the calls and emails so that we know how to fix our mistakes.

Thank-you all for making Kelly’s the place that you come to each week and letting us hand you a cup of coffee, handle side out.

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