What Is In A Tea Cup
What is in a tea cup…
warmth, love, memories…
Recently my sweet Momma gave me a few pieces of my grandmother’s china. My grandmother was one of my very best friends in life, when I lost her 7 years ago…I grieved very hard. She was the grandmother that you often read about in storybooks. Someone who always had my favorite snack on hand, otherwise known as Krispy Kreme donuts. (As a teenager, I could eat a whole dozen of hot Krispy Kreme donuts in one sitting…NO JOKE! And no I was not a fat girl…I just love donuts!) She would call me up and say things like…”Hey Honey, how about you and me take a shopping trip to the mall on Saturday? Let’s make a day of it!” She would pick me up and we would spend the whole day together, laughing and shopping for little bits of nothing really…but just enjoying being together. We always made a stop by the Intimate Bookshop, with its creaky wooden floors, where she would buy me a Nancy Drew mystery, or an Anne of Green Gables book to add to my collection. She loved buying me books.
She would love for me to come and stay at her house for days at a time…she would cook my favorite things and we would play board games and watch old TV reruns of “Father Knows Best” & “The Donna Reed Show.” She loved the beautiful music of the 50’s & 60’s. We would often listen to old records of the Lennon Sisters or The Browns, while we worked jigsaw puzzles or played board games. We would snuggle up at night in her cozy little “company bedroom” as she called it, and she would read me stories when I was little, then as I grew older, she would read her newspaper, while I read my latest Nancy Drew mystery. It was a fabulous way to end a day that was perfect in every way. Perfect because she took the time to “be” with me. To spend time doing something lasting, and valuable together.
She had the uncanny ability to just listen to my problems, she never tried to fix them, she just listened and nodded. And then she usually gave me a hug and suggested something fun to get my mind off of my teenage troubles. It usually worked. She was my confidant, my best friend. I miss her so much. She was like a second mother to me, while my own sweet mother worked during those long summers of my childhood. It was her house, that I came home to after a long day at school. Her kitchen table that I sat at to do my homework. Her fridge I raided when I was in search of a special snack. Her little patch of woods in the backyard, where I built my tree house. It was in her beautiful, special living room where I married my high school sweetheart. It was my sweet grandmother, who touched my heart in so many ways, that only a grandmother can, that saved me from myself. She is the one who made me want to be the good person that she thought I was. She changed me from a self centered, grumpy teenager, into a more loving person.
These are the thoughts that were in my tea cup this afternoon. My grandmother’s tea cup. A beautiful, delicate china cup, with gold trim and pretty green scrolls. I brewed a cup of chai, and then enjoyed the warm memories. A nice way to stay warm on a chilly Sunday afternoon.