Tea for Two

Thanksgiving is past, the turkey leftovers are all but consumed, and the time has arrived for the Christmas decorations. I adore this part of the year, the pulling out of the mounds and mounds of boxes from the basement and opening each one with the same thrill of surprise as I come across things I had forgotten we have.

Last year we finally took the plunge and purchased a full-size artificial tree. We've never had a real tree, at least not since we have been married, and as much as I relish taking in deep breaths of pine-scented air I have not yet overcome my fear of real (and very heavy) trees around toddlers and pets. Plus, okay, I'll admit I really don't relish the mess they make, either.

But our fake tree is big and full and pre-lit - all things which I appreciate. It also has the advantage of allowing me to manipulate the branches to best support some of our heavier ornaments and fill in bare spots.

As I unwrapped the various ornaments - funky clothespin reindeer, painted plaster figures, delicate swiss angels and tole painted snowmen each going up in turn - I came upon my Tea Ornaments.

You see, my mother-in-law and I used to live much closer together. On my frequent trips to her house, we always seemed to end up curled up in comfortable chairs to talk over cups of piping hot tea. It was our tradition, of sorts.

Another of their family traditions was that everyone received a Christmas ornament from Mom under the tree on Christmas morning. My first Christmas with the family I got a teacup and saucer ornament. Just a simple white cup and saucer with a pink pinstripe around the edge and a dainty lace-edged napkin resting on the saucer.

Thus began the tradition. Some years it was a cup and saucer, sometimes a teapot, and once a stiffened crochet set with both. Each one is unique and, spread out over the tree as they are, you might never notice the theme running there in the background.

By the time decorating day comes around each year I find myself surprised to be looking at that first unwrapped teacup. It brings back mental images of sunny summer mornings in the window-enclosed sunroom, drizzly spring afternoons under fleecy blankets in the basement, and lazy breakfasts over warm croissants at the kitchen round table. In each memory there is also a hot cup of aromatic tea and a long conversation. Sometimes there were smiles, sometimes tears... more often than not there was brainstorming for future projects or crafts or home decor ideas.

I think about who I was when I first met T's family. I was lost, I was lonely, and I was moving into unfamiliar territory in my life. I had left so much behind, but without knowing where I was going. I was forging ahead in my work, my spirituality, and my relationship with T - all with no idea where it would end up. I had no point of reference for where I found myself, for the foundation that was crumbling beneath me. I needed someone to tell me that I could walk my own path, that I had to follow my heart and trust my intelligence and be my own woman. I needed to know there was someone who would give me a shoulder to lean on as I floundered in this new reality.

And then I met T's mom. She made me call her "Mom" right away. She lamented my total lack of cooking know-how and immediately began my culinary education. She taught me to be brave - in the kitchen and in life. I learned to follow my instincts, to not be afraid to attempt the complicated recipe or challenging project. She taught me the proper way to brew loose tea and imparted the sacred family Gumbo recipe. She has even taught me to prepare fried green tomatoes that would knock your socks off and all the complicated rules to playing Bridge.

Our relationship has been a bit tumultuous at times. Over the nearly 8 years that T and I have been together she has been through drastic life changes - as have I. We don't always see eye to eye on everything, obviously. And now that I have boys of my own I can begin to understand how difficult it must be to have another woman become the most important one in your son's life. Not that sons love their mothers any less once they find their partner in life, but when your son gets married... suddenly someone else is finishing the project that you started - helping him pick out clothes, decorating the apartment, taking him home to their own family on holidays. After a lifetime of keeping a child firmly next to your heart - it can't be an easy thing, that learning to let go.

But over the years, we have developed a sort of rhythm. We have taken turns being mentor and pupil, therapist and patient, supportive friend and friend in need. In spite of the geographical distance and the struggle to find a new rhythm after all that has changed, as I unwrapped the ornaments and placed each on on the tree I found myself reliving - in golden soft-focus - the moments that our relationship was built on.

I am content with knowing that, no matter what may come in this uncertain future, when the days have passed and I am facing the reality of letting go of my own boys as they grow into their own men... each Christmas as I open the box marked "Mel's Tea Ornaments" I will be remembering the shining moments of a truly remarkable friendship. All the rest is just the smoothing of the rough edges. All that matters is that the good times came to pass, and they were real and essential. Difficult times will come, "a little rain must fall" and all that... but there are more good memories ahead, too. And, hopefully, more Tea Ornaments to recall them.