This morning, I drank a cup of Sanka coffee. This was my grandmother’s FAVORITE coffee. I made a cup and let it sit in my hands a little longer than usual. I was immediately taken back to her small kitchen. She’d make me a cup – in a mug with sugar if it were winter, or in an old jelly jar with milk if it was summer.

In Gullah Geechee culture, memory doesn’t live only in stories. It lives in what we do without thinking … what we cook, what we say, what we reach for, what we repeat. A cup of coffee might seem small, but it carries something. This morning, it carried her back to me …for a short while at least.