The feeling of “different” in this new year is hard to ignore. The blustery and yes, chilly, air here in this Hawaii January at our altitude somehow serves to remind me that changes will continue to happen, and the unexpected might still be lurking around the corner. When I woke up this morning I lay there for a few minutes thinking about the day ahead of me and I was remembering the feeling I used to wake with when Mike was alive. That sense of routine and comfortable familiarity I never thought would change so soon. I also again remembered one of the many little things I miss: I always woke to really good hot coffee. That was one of Mike’s happy duties, as he woke far earlier than I did. That first morning, February 17, 2013, when I woke to a cold carafe, I knew something was terribly wrong. Of the millions of small adjustments we make in the wake of our spouse’s deaths, for me, learning to make a decent pot of coffee was one of the first I had to tackle. So today, as is now my new routine, I got up to start the brew myself.