My Odelia,

It happens to me every morning at almost the same time,A morning that starts with a cup of coffee,The coffee may be stale, but the cup is special,It happens every morning, moments of connection, moments between me, you, and the cup.It was yours, and is now its mine,Moments of a hug, a longing with a sharp pain, moments of memories flood.Charging the mind and blood vessels.It’s a moment of connection with a mug, and your story.This is a story about a mugA simple cup, not the most beautiful, just a cup of coffee,A little blue a little yellowA large flower, a bit blurry,Its a mug that hides a story.This is a story worth telling,From a mug that has so much memory behind it ,A cup with good morning greetings.One that no other cup in the closet has.This cup is mine, this cup is yours,Until it falls and breaks, it’s ours.It’s unbelievable how one simple cup connects the two worlds.When I get up every morning for coffee, greeted by you in my heart, I am reminded of the connection with a cup of coffee, a cup with a story.

Written by Odelia’s z”l mother Dalia. Odelia was murdered in 2005 in the Stage Club Bombing. Picture taken from Heirlooms; Memory and Cherished Object by Jay Garfinkel. Read more about Odelia: https://memorials.onefamilytogether.org/soul/?id=1634