[Lifestyle] My Turn: Christmas coffee with Dad has life lessons

[Angel of Death]

I recall a Christmas morning when I was just 5. Under the tree, I saw it — the blue tea cup set with a pattern of white florets surrounding the trim that had been on my list for Santa. The red and green gift tag read: "To Susan from Santa." It wasn’t china, simply a plastic toy replica of the English-style Waterford china, but I loved it as if it were the real thing. And, knowing how much Daddy loved his coffee, I wanted the tea set so I could have coffee with Dad. I always wanted to be near my Dad. He was a special Dad, Gerard Fischetti, a handsome gentleman who sang to me, always there to protect me.That Christmas morning I thought I would surprise him by serving him a cup of coffee from my new tea cup set. With tea cups in hand for Dad and me, I dash off to the kitchen, smelling the Savarin brand ground coffee brewing. Dad only drank the Savarin coffee brand. Back when we grew up in the 1960s, I remember how my sisters and I all called Dad the "El Exigente," connoisseur of coffee, the demanding one for Savarin ground coffee, our take on mimicking the po[CENSORED]r television commercial.As I enter the kitchen, I break the rules to reach for the coffee pot. At the age of 5, I wasn’t allowed to touch anything hot on the stove. I carefully poured the coffee, then added a bit of milk and sugar — the way Daddy liked it. I poured myself a drop of coffee (I was told I was too young to drink coffee) with a lot of milk, so Daddy and I could have a "tea party," although it was with coffee because Dad didn’t drink tea.Sprinting cautiously, carrying the tray with our tea cups and saucers to the living room, I find Dad relaxing in his favorite soft brown chair smoking a cigarette. I proudly serve him his coffee "Daddy your coffee is served…," I announce, thinking I sound just like an English butler.Dad glances up at his little daughter holding a tray with plastic tea cups. Always the gentleman, Dad thanks me: "How nice, young lady. Thank you," and reaches for his coffee tea cup.I notice the tea cup seems too small for my Dad’s grip — though it was just the right size for me — as I joined him for our tea party.I drank my milk with coffee as Dad sipped his coffee.