Two Personalized Mugs, One Family - My Story
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Personalized coffee mugs are something you’re certainly familiar with; perhaps you have some yourself which you’ve been given over the years. I have a deep personal connection with a few of these mugs in particular. They have a way of really touching you in a way few other gifts can. I’d like to tell you a little more about why I feel so strongly about these mugs.
Almost 30 years ago now, my mother gave me a personalized photo mug as one of my college graduation gifts. Mine had a picture of my mom beaming and giving me a thumbs up. That year, I gave her one of these mugs for her birthday; it had a picture of me and a message of best wishes on her birthday. The mug she gave me became my regular daily coffee mug and is still one of my favorite things.
Each morning when I went to have my coffee, I’d take my personalized photo mug down out of the cabinet and have my morning coffee. My father and I live quite a long ways apart from each other, but each morning I felt close to him as I enjoyed my coffee. I’d look at his face on the mug and remember happy times together when I was a kid. Somehow I felt that I got to talk to him each day.
Since I used the personalized mug he gave me every day, I knew that I wanted to give him the same thing for his next birthday - and one for mom too on Christmas that year. He was overjoyed when he opened the mug I’d sent, especially with the note that said that I’d enjoyed my mug every day and hoped he’d get as much use out of his as I had mine. He called right away to let me know how much he appreciated the gift.
Soon I found out that dad was doing the same thing I was. Each morning he’d also use his mug with my picture. Even though we lived about 1000 miles apart, it was like we were having coffee together. Sometimes I’d even find myself talking to the mug, just like dad was there with me.
Unfortunately, my dad passed away a few months ago. When I went home to be with my mom she told me that there was something he wanted me to have. Tears came to my eyes when she handed me the mug I had given my dad for Christmas almost eight years ago. I could tell that the mug had been used over and over again. Apparently the personalized photo mug I had given to him meant as much to him as mine meant to me.
Now I have both of the mugs. They sit together in my cupboard in a place of importance. Each morning I still sit down for coffee and use the mug my father gave me. Of course, I always get out the one I gave him too. I can’t stand to see it up there by itself. Even though he’s been gone for some time, every morning when I drink my coffee, somehow it still seems like he is there with me having coffee. I have to believe that somewhere he’s drinking a cup of joe and thinking of me too.
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