CAD4-030
Barista: Amber Ingram
Date: Dec-31-2019
Receipt: CAD4-030
Subject: Business as Usual
Good morning, my sad little caffeinated compatriots. It’s Funeral Day. Hope you all slept well, because it’s going to be a long one.
Before anyone jumps on my case for making light of this—trust me, I know. This day is heavy. It’s monumental. It’s the kind of day that settles into your bones. Keeps you up at night. It’s not supposed to. But it does. And I cope with that kind of thing the same way I cope with everything else: by running my mouth until someone tells me to stop.
But even I have my limits. So, I’ll try to keep it… mostly respectful. No promises, though. But… yeah. I don’t think I can lighten a loss this big much.
I’ve been thinking about Ashlyn and Miranda. Two people who should still be here. Two people who made this place feel alive. And let’s be real—they’d be the first to laugh at me right now. Miranda especially. She’d have cracked the first joke—just to cut the tension before anyone else could. And Ashlyn? She’d have rolled her eyes, pretended to be above it all—but we all know she’d be snickering behind her cup. Those two were wicked—in the best way, of course. Maybe in another lifetime they found their true calling. Or maybe their true calling was always six feet under.
They were different. But they got each other. And they understood the rest of us in a way that I don’t think we fully appreciated until now. Ashlyn saw people. She knew what you needed before you did. She was Jackie’s second in command. Head of operations. She knew us and she knew the business better than anyone else. So... she had to know what would happen if she ran into that fire. And Miranda? Loud. Blunt. Honest to a fault. But she never let anyone feel alone in the dark. Or in the fire.
I wish we had more time. More time to crack our dumb jokes. To roll my eyes at their antics and for them to roll theirs at mine. More time to pretend we had forever. But that’s not how this works, is it?
So instead, we get today. One last goodbye. A moment to acknowledge everything we lost, and maybe—just maybe—to remind ourselves that we’re still here. That we still have each other. And as much as it sucks? As much as it hurts? We keep going. For them. For ourselves. For whatever comes next.
Now, someone get me a damn coffee before I start crying like the rest of you. We’ve still got a funeral to get through.