When the filter starts to drip

(NLĐO) - My childhood mornings often began with a familiar sight: my grandfather making coffee.

I remember him placing the aluminum coffee filter on the glass, adding the coffee grounds, gently tamping it down, and then pouring in hot water. He sat and waited.

Place the aluminum filter on top of the glass cup, add the coffee grounds, gently tamp it down, then pour in hot water.

The coffee began to fall. Slowly and steadily.

I was just a child then, often pulling up a chair to sit beside him, curiously watching the small filter drip, wondering why he could patiently wait like that.

Once, he patted my head and smiled, saying, "When you're a little older and start drinking coffee, you'll understand what it's like to have a cup of filter coffee in the morning."

Then he gently stirred his coffee with a small spoon. The sound of the spoon touching the side of the cup was very soft, like a familiar sound every morning.

The coffee began to fall. Slowly and steadily.

I still clearly remember the smell of coffee back then. A rich, warm aroma, gently spreading throughout the house during the subsidy era.

Years passed, and as I grew older, I started drinking coffee. At first, it was just a habit. But gradually, I realized I really enjoyed those few minutes sitting quietly, waiting for the filter to drip.

Every time this happens, I think of him.

I often wonder if, far away, he still sits there brewing coffee every morning like he used to. Memories quietly return, and I still sit before the coffee filter, watching the coffee drip.

The scent is rich and warm, spreading gently.

The aroma of coffee wafted gently through the living room, warm and deep, like mornings long ago. The bitterness of the first sip was always distinct, but then came a familiar feeling: peace.

My mornings now don't start with the alarm clock, but with a cup of coffee dripping from the filter and my daughter's cheerful chatter: "Why do you like drinking coffee, Dad?" I pat her head and smile.

My mornings now start not with the alarm clock, but with a cup of coffee.

And in that slow, gentle sound, I always feel as if he is still sitting somewhere on a morning far, far away.

(Entry for the "Impressions on Vietnamese Coffee and Tea" contest 2026, part of the 4th "Celebrating Vietnamese Coffee and Tea" program organized by Nguoi Lao Dong Newspaper).

Source: https://nld.com.vn/khi-chiec-phin-bat-dau-nho-giot-196260317180316271.htm