The Sandwich Generation Chronicles: The Joy of Cold Coffee

The Sandwich Generation Chronicles: The Joy of Cold Coffee

I don’t remember the last time I drank a hot cup of coffee. I make it hot. I intend to drink it hot. I even sit down with it while it’s still steaming, convinced that this will be the morning I finally enjoy it the way it was meant to be enjoyed. Inevitably, something happens. A question, a call, a text, or a problem.  Next thing I know, I am scurrying around like a pack rat after a shiny object.  Then I take a sip of my coffee and…it’s cold.

I wonder if cold coffee is the unofficial beverage of the sandwich generation.  Maybe this is why Starbucks started selling cold brew?  Perhaps cold coffee is just what you get when you are constantly being pulled in two directions.  I am trying to learn to appreciate it.  I am embracing the idea that cold coffee means I showed up somewhere else or for someone else, first.  Even if that “someone else” was a group text that somehow required 47 responses before 8:00 a.m.

Recently, I recognized a pattern.  The same thing happens at work and in leadership. Early in my career, I was taught that leadership is bold decisiveness encased in action and results. If you want to be a leader, then you need to charge into problems, solve them quickly, and move on to the next challenge.  I even learned that if you are really good at it,  you get to wear a cape.  Or at least that’s how I remember it. It’s possible I’m mixing that up with Saturday morning cartoons.

But the hero version seems incomplete.  Is it really necessary to slay a dragon if you do not know why they are breathing fire in the first place?  Can’t I be friends with Puff? Or Pete?

Throughout my career, I’ve been told that trying to understand the dragon is too time-consuming. That’s “Pollyanna” thinking.  In the 80s, Gordon Gekko taught us that “Greed is good.” In the 90s, Glengarry Glen Ross reminded us to “Always Be Closing.”  The underlying message was that success was internally driven. Leadership meant having answers.

As a manager, the role was to fix things quickly, remove obstacles, and keep everything moving forward. Solve the problem before the person finishes explaining it. Boom! Efficient. Productive. Done….Next!

Then I entered the world of Human Resources, and I learned something that completely changed how I saw leadership. People are not always looking for immediate solutions.

They are often looking to be heard and understood, and to feel that their experience matters. Sometimes they don’t even know what the solution is yet, but they know something feels off.

That’s when I learned there is a difference between solving a problem and supporting a person.  And that difference lives squarely in the messy middle.

Like muddy water after a storm, it slowly becomes clearer over time. The messy middle of leadership isn’t about being at the top or the bottom. It’s about existing between expectations and reality, strategy and execution, leadership’s intentions and employees’ experiences. It’s where translation happens. And translation (like potty training a dog or a human) takes time and patience.

I still solve problems. That hasn’t changed. But I’ve learned that the most effective leaders don’t rush to be the hero in every situation. They create space and ask better questions. They allow people to be part of the solution. And they understand that progress doesn’t always come from speed. Sometimes it comes from clarity.

There is a quiet discipline in not reacting immediately or jumping to conclusions.  It takes practice to avoid inserting your own interpretation or solution too quickly.  (I could totally name that song in one note.  Confidence has never been my problem.)  It takes discipline to remember you are not helping someone else grow if you take away their chance to learn.  Believe it or not, I have learned that sometimes, I am not always right.  Or to quote my husband, “I wasn’t wrong, I was just less right.”

Cold coffee serves as a small reminder of that. It reminds me that I am not the center of every situation. My role is often to support, not to control. To understand before acting. To listen before deciding. It reminds me that leadership isn't always visible or celebrated.

And that’s okay. Because in the messy middle, the goal isn’t to slay every dragon. It’s to make sure the people around you don’t feel like they’re facing them alone. If I ever get back to drinking a hot cup of coffee, I’ll let you know. But for now, I think I’ll sit with this one a little longer.