Tell me a story

[Begonia]

I'm a person who is "stuck behind their eyes and lost btwn their ears", meaning introspective? I spend my days daydreaming and lost in thought, sometimes dissociative from past trauma although I've learned to manage that. I love stories, remembrances of things past, people we loved and lost. I'm not sure if there is an afterlife but I know love never dies and there is an afterlife in remembering and passing love and habits/ways of doing things on.

My family loves tea. I was probably given tea in my sippy cup as a baby. Tea bound us together as we sat and spent time rejoicing, relaxing, worrying, hanging out etc. I gave my son's tea as soon as I felt it was appropriate, which was pretty darn early, maybe 1 year old? I once got into a conflict at the toddler group with a health nurse over it, and I thought she might call social services on me! That was a fight I was willing to take on.

After school, I'd sit my kids at the table and have a snack and tea and decompress about their day. Green, white, black, yellow, herbal, we drink it all. Then the neighbor latchkey kids would show up and share our snack and tea. Imagine 4 little faces around the table eating cheese cubes, crackers, apple slices and drinking gen maicha (roasted rice green tea) from tiny porcelain cups. They would drink and listen to me tell them about the tea. Taiwanese high mountain with floral notes, milk oolong with it's creamy texture, the calming ability of hoji cha...my older son says his grown friends still reminisce about the tea and drink it to this day for its ability to comfort and soothe.

My Mum passed away a few years ago, but she loved tea. What she most loved was the ability of tea to bind us, to bring us together in love even when life may be going sideways. I may have had 27 cups of tea that day but if you dropped around and visited, and she made tea, if was the height of rudeness to refuse a cup. If was refusing hospitality, love, her Mothering? I'm not really sure...but when she looked away, I might dump the tea in a plant. Later as she got older, I always drank the tea.

I never knew my grandparents, they died when I was 2. Tea and kinship were pivotal in their lives too I'm told. I think about how much I missed not knowing them, having their love and wisdom (over tea) growing up, especially in my frightening household as a child, but I try to bring that atmosphere of love and acceptance to tea time in my house, as I imagine they would have.

My Father was an abusive man, and I'm hesitant to introduce his energy into my story for fear of contaminating it. Yet it wasn't all bad. I was an odd little duck of a kid who followed him around watching and wondering. He would explain things to me and show me how things worked, with his hands. He had lovely hands to my eye, capable and long fingered, and was very good with his hands. I think maybe having me in his presence calmed his rages a little at times. Not always. Now as I make yet another pot of tea I see those hands, they're mine now, passed on thru the mystery of genetics. Those same hands making tea in relative contentment and love, something he struggled with in life.

That's my story.

Next?

 

[lyra]

@Begonia That was lovely to read. I wish I had any tradition like that to think about. It makes me want to try tea. How wonderful that you were able to bring it to your children as well.

 

[Begonia]

@Begonia That was lovely to read. I wish I had any tradition like that to think about. It makes me want to try tea. How wonderful that you were able to bring it to your children as well.

Thank you for reading my story @lyra! PS is an eclectic community of thinkers and feelers, and I found myself wanting to share a bit about who I am, behind the jokes and one liners of jewelery appreciation.

I know you love jewelery, but who are you? What do you daydream about? How are you living your 'one, precious life'?

 

[Ally T]

I love this story! And like your family, my family are huge tea drinkers. So much so, that we all used to joke that as soon as you put the kettle on in the afternoon, my father's car would arrive into the driveway, like he had an internal beacon for tea & heard the kettle boiling! It was totally uncanny!

We are British & on my mothers side, way, way back in time, there was slave trading between Africa & the Caribbean. Land was secured & money was made, but it still makes me shudder to think about it & whilst it's acknowledged, it's not discussed. On my fathers side it was tea plantations out in India. And to this day we are HUGE tea drinkers & it binds us. I have 3 siblings & our mother is close by, so you can bet your bottom dollar as soon as one of us appears at anothers house, the kettle goes on for a lovely cup of tea. Everybody knows how everybody else likes their tea & it's not up for discussion - it just gets made. My brother likes English Breakfast that has sat in the water for a good 5 minutes, turns dark & strong. My older sister likes hers weak, so much so that you might wonder if the tea actually touched the cup. My little sister & I like it medium & very hot with little milk. For us both, Earl Grey is the ultimate, just steaming & all by itself.

Both of my girls started drinking decaffeinated milky tea in their sippy cups around 18 months. It's just part of who we are.

I definitely think cups of tea are like the cog in our family wheel.

 

[yssie]

@Begonia Thank you so much for sharing that story It made me smile. I'm also from a family of tea drinkers, like you and @Alex T, and as an adult taking twenty minutes to make a pot of chai is always wonderful stress-relief.


I suspect all my stories feature the animals Here's one that still makes me laugh. And cringe.

We brought our dog Bax home from the shelter five years ago - he was around four. We already had Emily, a four-month puppy with razor sharp baby teeth and an excess of energy, and she desperately needed a canine friend. We desperately needed her to have a canine friend.

Bax was loving and patient with his new, ill-mannered sister from the beginning. He was also clearly just not the brightest bulb. We'd always kept Emily separated from the cats whilst we weren't home - we had the main room in the basement finished and carpeted for her, and since the basement of that house was underground we replaced the little window by the ceiling with a doggy door and built a ramp up to it; the yard was already fenced so she could come and go as she pleased.

Emily had no trouble whatsoever with the doggy door. When it was plastic she pushed right through it. When we added a heavy wooden frame for weather-proofing she pushed right through it. When we installed a microchip sensor she learnt to pause for a moment, wait for it to beep, and then push through it. We expected Bax to have similarly few compunctions.

Bax refused to breach the doggy door frame. Even when we removed the door itself, even if bribed with all manner of treats. The only way he'd go through was if I wriggled through backward on my stomach right before him, so I kept facing him (really important to keep facing him for whatever reasons), and led him physically by his collar - the window was pretty small, DH couldn't fit. For five weeks after we brought home I had to wake up in the middle of the night and come home three times during the work day, change, go down to the basement, crawl up the ramp, and lead the dog outside through his door. If it started raining, well, better get home and take the dog inside!

We were talking about excavating part of the yard and tearing out a wall to put a full-sized door in. An incredibly expensive project. We still haven't any idea what made him decide to use that door one day - long after we'd given up hope of it. Our current house has a walkout basement with a human-sized door. I insisted on taking the doggy door frame when we moved, and had our handyman cut an opening in the human door and install that exact same frame. Just in case.

 

[YadaYadaYada]

@Begonia I love your tea story. Also it is such a gift that you can pull the good memories about your father despite his struggles, that says a lot about you.

I'll tell the story of my second son.

I was very excited to find out I was pregnant with our second child, my first pregnancy I was really sick so I was determined to enjoy this one. Early on I would pray every night "God I just pray for the health and safety of the baby" it was rather unusual, I'm not a really consistent prayer person. Still I prayed every night.

At 34 weeks (I think, it's been almost 6 years!) I suddenly was having trouble seeing the television, DH convinced me to go to the hospital. They couldn't find the special equipment they needed so they sent me home with an appointment to see a local eye doctor the next day. There was just a black line in my left eye where I couldn't see anything.

Get to the eye doctor and it's obvious there is a problem, he tells me I need to go immediately back to the hospital. I get there and they put me on a stretcher and tell me I've had a stroke, will probably not get my eyesight back and may have to be hospitalized for the rest of my pregnancy. Yes, the nurse actually dumped all that on me at once, I had to call DH and tell him I had a stroke.

Making a long story short, I ended up at Yale, they never saw this in someone my age, lots of tests and they send me home, there's was a debate between Yale and my doctor whether I should be on blood thinners, my doctor said no, I was a scheduled c-section so that was a consideration. Then I had to just wait to get to 39 weeks and hope nothing else happened.

He was born perfectly healthy, not a spot on him, nothing to indicate there had been anything abnormal during the pregnancy. My vision has never returned in that eye (peripheral left eye) but that was a small price to pay to keep the baby safe, I believe the prayers spared him.

 

[yssie]

Oh my goodness, how frightening @YadaYadaYada!! I'm SO glad your son was okay! And I'm glad that that stroke had no lasting effects beyond your peripheral vision in that one eye

 

[stracci2000]

@Begonia I love your tea story. Also it is such a gift that you can pull the good memories about your father despite his struggles, that says a lot about you.

I'll tell the story of my second son.

I was very excited to find out I was pregnant with our second child, my first pregnancy I was really sick so I was determined to enjoy this one. Early on I would pray every night "God I just pray for the health and safety of the baby" it was rather unusual, I'm not a really consistent prayer person. Still I prayed every night.

At 34 weeks (I think, it's been almost 6 years!) I suddenly was having trouble seeing the television, DH convinced me to go to the hospital. They couldn't find the special equipment they needed so they sent me home with an appointment to see a local eye doctor the next day. There was just a black line in my left eye where I couldn't see anything.

Get to the eye doctor and it's obvious there is a problem, he tells me I need to go immediately back to the hospital. I get there and they put me on a stretcher and tell me I've had a stroke, will probably not get my eyesight back and may have to be hospitalized for the rest of my pregnancy. Yes, the nurse actually dumped all that on me at once, I had to call DH and tell him I had a stroke.

Making a long story short, I ended up at Yale, they never saw this in someone my age, lots of tests and they send me home, there's was a debate between Yale and my doctor whether I should be on blood thinners, my doctor said no, I was a scheduled c-section so that was a consideration. Then I had to just wait to get to 39 weeks and hope nothing else happened.

He was born perfectly healthy, not a spot on him, nothing to indicate there had been anything abnormal during the pregnancy. My vision has never returned in that eye (peripheral left eye) but that was a small price to pay to keep the baby safe, I believe the prayers spared him.

Wow, what a story! I recall you mentioned once before that you had a stroke. I didn't know about your eye issue! I'm glad you and the baby were ok!

 

[Begonia]

I love this story! And like your family, my family are huge tea drinkers. So much so, that we all used to joke that as soon as you put the kettle on in the afternoon, my father's car would arrive into the driveway, like he had an internal beacon for tea & heard the kettle boiling! It was totally uncanny!

We are British & on my mothers side, way, way back in time, there was slave trading between Africa & the Caribbean. Land was secured & money was made, but it still makes me shudder to think about it & whilst it's acknowledged, it's not discussed. On my fathers side it was tea plantations out in India. And to this day we are HUGE tea drinkers & it binds us. I have 3 siblings & our mother is close by, so you can bet your bottom dollar as soon as one of us appears at anothers house, the kettle goes on for a lovely cup of tea. Everybody knows how everybody else likes their tea & it's not up for discussion - it just gets made. My brother likes English Breakfast that has sat in the water for a good 5 minutes, turns dark & strong. My older sister likes hers weak, so much so that you might wonder if the tea actually touched the cup. My little sister & I like it medium & very hot with little milk. For us both, Earl Grey is the ultimate, just steaming & all by itself.

Both of my girls started drinking decaffeinated milky tea in their sippy cups around 18 months. It's just part of who we are.

I definitely think cups of tea are like the cog in our family wheel.

Not all family history is something we can be proud of, sadly, and we all share family shame in one form or another. "When we know better, we do better", as a great great lady once said.

Tea is the cog in your family wheel. I love that @Alex T!

 

[Begonia]

@Begonia I love your tea story. Also it is such a gift that you can pull the good memories about your father despite his struggles, that says a lot about you.

I'll tell the story of my second son.

I was very excited to find out I was pregnant with our second child, my first pregnancy I was really sick so I was determined to enjoy this one. Early on I would pray every night "God I just pray for the health and safety of the baby" it was rather unusual, I'm not a really consistent prayer person. Still I prayed every night.

At 34 weeks (I think, it's been almost 6 years!) I suddenly was having trouble seeing the television, DH convinced me to go to the hospital. They couldn't find the special equipment they needed so they sent me home with an appointment to see a local eye doctor the next day. There was just a black line in my left eye where I couldn't see anything.

Get to the eye doctor and it's obvious there is a problem, he tells me I need to go immediately back to the hospital. I get there and they put me on a stretcher and tell me I've had a stroke, will probably not get my eyesight back and may have to be hospitalized for the rest of my pregnancy. Yes, the nurse actually dumped all that on me at once, I had to call DH and tell him I had a stroke.

Making a long story short, I ended up at Yale, they never saw this in someone my age, lots of tests and they send me home, there's was a debate between Yale and my doctor whether I should be on blood thinners, my doctor said no, I was a scheduled c-section so that was a consideration. Then I had to just wait to get to 39 weeks and hope nothing else happened.

He was born perfectly healthy, not a spot on him, nothing to indicate there had been anything abnormal during the pregnancy. My vision has never returned in that eye (peripheral left eye) but that was a small price to pay to keep the baby safe, I believe the prayers spared him.

I'm so thankful you and the baby came thru safely @YadaYadaYada! I believe prayer saved you both.

 

[Begonia]

@Begonia Thank you so much for sharing that story It made me smile. I'm also from a family of tea drinkers, like you and @Alex T, and as an adult taking twenty minutes to make a pot of chai is always wonderful stress-relief.


I suspect all my stories feature the animals Here's one that still makes me laugh. And cringe.

We brought our dog Bax home from the shelter five years ago - he was around four. We already had Emily, a four-month puppy with razor sharp baby teeth and an excess of energy, and she desperately needed a canine friend. We desperately needed her to have a canine friend.

Bax was loving and patient with his new, ill-mannered sister from the beginning. He was also clearly just not the brightest bulb. We'd always kept Emily separated from the cats whilst we weren't home - we had the main room in the basement finished and carpeted for her, and since the basement of that house was underground we replaced the little window by the ceiling with a doggy door and built a ramp up to it; the yard was already fenced so she could come and go as she pleased.

Emily had no trouble whatsoever with the doggy door. When it was plastic she pushed right through it. When we added a heavy wooden frame for weather-proofing she pushed right through it. When we installed a microchip sensor she learnt to pause for a moment, wait for it to beep, and then push through it. We expected Bax to have similarly few compunctions.

Bax refused to breach the doggy door frame. Even when we removed the door itself, even if bribed with all manner of treats. The only way he'd go through was if I wriggled through backward on my stomach right before him, so I kept facing him (really important to keep facing him for whatever reasons), and led him physically by his collar - the window was pretty small, DH couldn't fit. For five weeks after we brought home I had to wake up in the middle of the night and come home three times during the work day, change, go down to the basement, crawl up the ramp, and lead the dog outside through his door. If it started raining, well, better get home and take the dog inside!

We were talking about excavating part of the yard and tearing out a wall to put a full-sized door in. An incredibly expensive project. We still haven't any idea what made him decide to use that door one day - long after we'd given up hope of it. Our current house has a walkout basement with a human-sized door. I insisted on taking the doggy door frame when we moved, and had our handyman cut an opening in the human door and install that exact same frame. Just in case.

Bax is a dog after my heart LOL @yssie. Your patience paid off in the end, but I'm especially loving the part where you did the crawling and leading. You're a problem solver of the best kind!

 

[Ally T]

Not all family history is something we can be proud of, sadly, and we all share family shame in one form or another. "When we know better, we do better", as a great great lady once said.

Tea is the cog in your family wheel. I love that @Alex T!

"When we know better, we do better." Gosh, I love this very much......
I will tell my mother this tomorrow on our phone call. She'll be horrified I mentioned the 'family trading' in a public forum, but I think this quote is very soothing.

 

[YadaYadaYada]

@yssie @Begonia
@stracci2000, thanks so much, it could have been so much worse for both of us!

 

[Missy]

@Begonia what a wonderful memory and thank you for sharing. And thank you to everyone here who has shared or will share such meaningful poignant stories with us.

Like you @Begonia I often get lost in my thoughts and daydream.
In fact my DH more than occasionally says to me where did you go when we are watching a movie (for example) because I just blank out and lose chunks of time as we sit there. Then he has to explain what I just missed in said movie.
So yeah my mind just tends to wander.
Eyes wide open but mind somewhere else.

One of my fondest memories is that of my grandmother. We were very close.
When we were little she would visit almost every day. My grandparents moved closer to where we lived when we were toddlers just to be able to walk over and visit us often.
So we grew up with 2 moms in a way.
We have a very small family so it really was just us and my parents, my moms' parents (grandparents), and my mom's brother and SIL (our uncle and aunt).

When I became a young adult and moved out and was away at school I didn't get to see my grandma as often. But I spoke with her on the phone every single day without fail. And when I graduated and moved to a neighborhood no longer as close I still made it my business to visit her every week. Some visits were long and some were shorter but they were always sweet and loving and I miss my grandma more than words can say.

Our visits consisted of chatting and laughing and always cooking was involved. My grandma showed her love through cooking and feeding us. Food = Love in our family. But mainly we would just chat about nothing yet about everything. We were very different (I was career oriented and all she wanted for me was that I get married and have a family of my own but I was nowhere near that headspace especially at that stage of my life) but it was OK. Love does conquer all.

My last visit with her remains with me as not a good memory just because I cut it super short thinking I had much more time to spend with my grandma in the days to come... I don't want to sully this thread by discussing it. I have shared it on PS before and no need to rehash. Suffice to say if only we could see the future. If only we had a crystal ball.

To this day I love my grandma as much as ever despite her dying almost 3 decades ago.
Sadly some memories have faded.
But I still remember the strong bond we shared and how much I loved and adored her and how she adored and loved me.

Truly no one can give unconditional love like a grandmother. I was blessed to have her in my life for those 2 plus decades.
And one day I hope I will see her again.

I don't know what I believe in terms of afterlife (truth be told I am skeptical but oh would love to be wrong about that) but I do know my grandma is always with me. In my heart. Forever and ever for as long as I am alive.




Thank you @Begonia for this lovely trip down memory lane. And happy Mother's Day to everyone here.

 

[1ofakind]

I don’t have a lot of happy childhood memories...I just didn’t have that kind of family. But because it is Mother’s Day my thoughts drift to my mom who died 1 1/2 years ago. While it makes me sad to say that day to day I don’t miss her I do fondly recall that on some of her good days she would sing to us. Some of the songs I still remember. She had an untrained but pretty singing voice.
She also gave me some good advice once.

When I was in 1st grade there was a group of 4th grade girls who liked to pick on the smaller kids. One of their recess games was to pick up a kid, each holding an arm or a leg, and swing the kid into a prickly bush.
I would run and try to hide from them but being bigger that strategy only worked sometimes if they decided to pick an easier target.
My mom finally told me to go right up to them at recess and ASK to be thrown into the bush with a big smile on my face and as if I really wanted them to do it. Well that sounded crazy to me.
It took me a few more landings in the prickly bush to get up the nerve to try it. But when I did it worked!! I asked, sometimes begged to get thrown in the bush and they never threw me ever again. They even stopped trying to get me altogether.
I learned that sometimes giving in to what a person seems to want is a very good strategy to get what I want or at least to get them to back down. Thanks mom.

I did not employ this same tactic with a girl named Linda who pulled down pants. It was the 70’s, we all wore elastic waistband pants. I could run faster than Linda so I stuck with that, lol.

 

[Begonia]

@Begonia what a wonderful memory and thank you for sharing. And thank you to everyone here who has shared or will share such meaningful poignant stories with us.

Like you @Begonia I often get lost in my thoughts and daydream.
In fact my DH more than occasionally says to me where did you go when we are watching a movie (for example) because I just blank out and lose chunks of time as we sit there. Then he has to explain what I just missed in said movie.
So yeah my mind just tends to wander.
Eyes wide open but mind somewhere else.

One of my fondest memories is that of my grandmother. We were very close.
When we were little she would visit almost every day. My grandparents moved closer to where we lived when we were toddlers just to be able to walk over and visit us often.
So we grew up with 2 moms in a way.
We have a very small family so it really was just us and my parents, my moms' parents (grandparents), and my mom's brother and SIL (our uncle and aunt).

When I became a young adult and moved out and was away at school I didn't get to see my grandma as often. But I spoke with her on the phone every single day without fail. And when I graduated and moved to a neighborhood no longer as close I still made it my business to visit her every week. Some visits were long and some were shorter but they were always sweet and loving and I miss my grandma more than words can say.

Our visits consisted of chatting and laughing and always cooking was involved. My grandma showed her love through cooking and feeding us. Food = Love in our family. But mainly we would just chat about nothing yet about everything. We were very different (I was career oriented and all she wanted for me was that I get married and have a family of my own but I was nowhere near that headspace especially at that stage of my life) but it was OK. Love does conquer all.

My last visit with her remains with me as not a good memory just because I cut it super short thinking I had much more time to spend with my grandma in the days to come... I don't want to sully this thread by discussing it. I have shared it on PS before and no need to rehash. Suffice to say if only we could see the future. If only we had a crystal ball.

To this day I love my grandma as much as ever despite her dying almost 3 decades ago.
Sadly some memories have faded.
But I still remember the strong bond we shared and how much I loved and adored her and how she adored and loved me.

Truly no one can give unconditional love like a grandmother. I was blessed to have her in my life for those 2 plus decades.
And one day I hope I will see her again.

I don't know what I believe in terms of afterlife (truth be told I am skeptical but oh would love to be wrong about that) but I do know my grandma is always with me. In my heart. Forever and ever for as long as I am alive.




Thank you @Begonia for this lovely trip down memory lane. And happy Mother's Day to everyone here.

I've been away for a few days #missy, but what a wonderful story. I wish I had known her too as her love for her family and wisdom would have been touching and inspirational to witness. I'm so glad you are and have been cherished and deeply loved in this life.

 

[Begonia]

I don’t have a lot of happy childhood memories...I just didn’t have that kind of family. But because it is Mother’s Day my thoughts drift to my mom who died 1 1/2 years ago. While it makes me sad to say that day to day I don’t miss her I do fondly recall that on some of her good days she would sing to us. Some of the songs I still remember. She had an untrained but pretty singing voice.
She also gave me some good advice once.

When I was in 1st grade there was a group of 4th grade girls who liked to pick on the smaller kids. One of their recess games was to pick up a kid, each holding an arm or a leg, and swing the kid into a prickly bush.
I would run and try to hide from them but being bigger that strategy only worked sometimes if they decided to pick an easier target.
My mom finally told me to go right up to them at recess and ASK to be thrown into the bush with a big smile on my face and as if I really wanted them to do it. Well that sounded crazy to me.
It took me a few more landings in the prickly bush to get up the nerve to try it. But when I did it worked!! I asked, sometimes begged to get thrown in the bush and they never threw me ever again. They even stopped trying to get me altogether.
I learned that sometimes giving in to what a person seems to want is a very good strategy to get what I want or at least to get them to back down. Thanks mom.

I did not employ this same tactic with a girl named Linda who pulled down pants. It was the 70’s, we all wore elastic waistband pants. I could run faster than Linda so I stuck with that, lol.

I'm glad you too are able to think some positive thoughts toward your Mom, as Yada said, it says a lot about you.

Sometimes ya gotta hold, and sometimes ya gotta fold, and then get the €$#% outta there

 

[Gem Queen]

I'm a person who is "stuck behind their eyes and lost btwn their ears", meaning introspective? I spend my days daydreaming and lost in thought, sometimes dissociative from past trauma although I've learned to manage that. I love stories, remembrances of things past, people we loved and lost. I'm not sure if there is an afterlife but I know love never dies and there is an afterlife in remembering and passing love and habits/ways of doing things on.

My family loves tea. I was probably given tea in my sippy cup as a baby. Tea bound us together as we sat and spent time rejoicing, relaxing, worrying, hanging out etc. I gave my son's tea as soon as I felt it was appropriate, which was pretty darn early, maybe 1 year old? I once got into a conflict at the toddler group with a health nurse over it, and I thought she might call social services on me! That was a fight I was willing to take on.

After school, I'd sit my kids at the table and have a snack and tea and decompress about their day. Green, white, black, yellow, herbal, we drink it all. Then the neighbor latchkey kids would show up and share our snack and tea. Imagine 4 little faces around the table eating cheese cubes, crackers, apple slices and drinking gen maicha (roasted rice green tea) from tiny porcelain cups. They would drink and listen to me tell them about the tea. Taiwanese high mountain with floral notes, milk oolong with it's creamy texture, the calming ability of hoji cha...my older son says his grown friends still reminisce about the tea and drink it to this day for its ability to comfort and soothe.

My Mum passed away a few years ago, but she loved tea. What she most loved was the ability of tea to bind us, to bring us together in love even when life may be going sideways. I may have had 27 cups of tea that day but if you dropped around and visited, and she made tea, if was the height of rudeness to refuse a cup. If was refusing hospitality, love, her Mothering? I'm not really sure...but when she looked away, I might dump the tea in a plant. Later as she got older, I always drank the tea.

I never knew my grandparents, they died when I was 2. Tea and kinship were pivotal in their lives too I'm told. I think about how much I missed not knowing them, having their love and wisdom (over tea) growing up, especially in my frightening household as a child, but I try to bring that atmosphere of love and acceptance to tea time in my house, as I imagine they would have.

My Father was an abusive man, and I'm hesitant to introduce his energy into my story for fear of contaminating it. Yet it wasn't all bad. I was an odd little duck of a kid who followed him around watching and wondering. He would explain things to me and show me how things worked, with his hands. He had lovely hands to my eye, capable and long fingered, and was very good with his hands. I think maybe having me in his presence calmed his rages a little at times. Not always. Now as I make yet another pot of tea I see those hands, they're mine now, passed on thru the mystery of genetics. Those same hands making tea in relative contentment and love, something he struggled with in life.

That's my story.

Next?

Holy cow, you can write. You must keep going. I’ll think of something and write back. I think I’ll write about my mom being Jewish and my dad’s mom being hard-core Christian and how it ended up. Just too tired rIght now.

 

[Gem Queen]

I'm a person who is "stuck behind their eyes and lost btwn their ears", meaning introspective? I spend my days daydreaming and lost in thought, sometimes dissociative from past trauma although I've learned to manage that. I love stories, remembrances of things past, people we loved and lost. I'm not sure if there is an afterlife but I know love never dies and there is an afterlife in remembering and passing love and habits/ways of doing things on.

My family loves tea. I was probably given tea in my sippy cup as a baby. Tea bound us together as we sat and spent time rejoicing, relaxing, worrying, hanging out etc. I gave my son's tea as soon as I felt it was appropriate, which was pretty darn early, maybe 1 year old? I once got into a conflict at the toddler group with a health nurse over it, and I thought she might call social services on me! That was a fight I was willing to take on.

After school, I'd sit my kids at the table and have a snack and tea and decompress about their day. Green, white, black, yellow, herbal, we drink it all. Then the neighbor latchkey kids would show up and share our snack and tea. Imagine 4 little faces around the table eating cheese cubes, crackers, apple slices and drinking gen maicha (roasted rice green tea) from tiny porcelain cups. They would drink and listen to me tell them about the tea. Taiwanese high mountain with floral notes, milk oolong with it's creamy texture, the calming ability of hoji cha...my older son says his grown friends still reminisce about the tea and drink it to this day for its ability to comfort and soothe.

My Mum passed away a few years ago, but she loved tea. What she most loved was the ability of tea to bind us, to bring us together in love even when life may be going sideways. I may have had 27 cups of tea that day but if you dropped around and visited, and she made tea, if was the height of rudeness to refuse a cup. If was refusing hospitality, love, her Mothering? I'm not really sure...but when she looked away, I might dump the tea in a plant. Later as she got older, I always drank the tea.

I never knew my grandparents, they died when I was 2. Tea and kinship were pivotal in their lives too I'm told. I think about how much I missed not knowing them, having their love and wisdom (over tea) growing up, especially in my frightening household as a child, but I try to bring that atmosphere of love and acceptance to tea time in my house, as I imagine they would have.

My Father was an abusive man, and I'm hesitant to introduce his energy into my story for fear of contaminating it. Yet it wasn't all bad. I was an odd little duck of a kid who followed him around watching and wondering. He would explain things to me and show me how things worked, with his hands. He had lovely hands to my eye, capable and long fingered, and was very good with his hands. I think maybe having me in his presence calmed his rages a little at times. Not always. Now as I make yet another pot of tea I see those hands, they're mine now, passed on thru the mystery of genetics. Those same hands making tea in relative contentment and love, something he struggled with in life.

That's my story.

Next?

Oh. One more thing. tell me about the milk oolong. Is it like milk tea? I love cream in my tea. I drink it every morning. I love Earl Grey. Just fell in love with Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf tea. The African something tea. It’s such great quality. Now we need to start a string on Good Quality teas.

 

[Begonia]

Oh. One more thing. tell me about the milk oolong. Is it like milk tea? I love cream in my tea. I drink it every morning. I love Earl Grey. Just fell in love with Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf tea. The African something tea. It’s such great quality. Now we need to start a string on Good Quality teas.

Gem Queen, we must hear all about your family, or whatever you feel like sharing

Milk oolong is from Taiwan and has a creamy buttery milky taste on the tongue. It's a light yellow tea in color and fairly hard to source but very very nice!

 

[Begonia]

Oh. One more thing. tell me about the milk oolong. Is it like milk tea? I love cream in my tea. I drink it every morning. I love Earl Grey. Just fell in love with Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf tea. The African something tea. It’s such great quality. Now we need to start a string on Good Quality teas.

Maybe African rooibos? I drink many cups a day. Earl Grey? A wonderful tea! With cream you say? Oh. Yeah.

 

[1ofakind]

I'm glad you too are able to think some positive thoughts toward your Mom, as Yada said, it says a lot about you.

Sometimes ya gotta hold, and sometimes ya gotta fold, and then get the €$#% outta there

Thank you for your kind words. Maintaining a functional, caring and mentally safe (for me) relationship with a toxic mom wasn’t always easy and many, many people walked away from her completely. I don’t judge them for it, I wanted to walk away many times. The absolute hardest thing when she died was reading the condolence cards from people who knew me but didn’t Fully understand how difficult and one sided the relationship had been. They were such nice messages but didn’t reflect the situation. I needed a card that said ‘I’m sorry you never had the mom you wished for and that this mom, as a final poke in your eye, left her life insurance to your lame sister who never showed up for her.‘
I guess Hallmark doesn’t make those kinds of cards, lol. It’s all ok though, I am at peace and hopefully mom is at peace now too.

Thank you for this thread, telling some of your story and giving a platform for others to do so as well. It seems a lot of us really like tea!!