Tea Time

There is a company which has just recently perfected a kettle which makes the perfect cup of tea. My thought was, "Does it also bring the wisdom with it?"

In my house I have a huge old camping kettle. It's enamel and has seen its share of triumphs and tragedies in its day. It came to us through a garage sale and is big and brown and full of personality. It holds around twenty cups of water which is enough for a really long D & M session.

To me, a cup of tea is not just about what you are drinking, whether its green, red, black, oolong, herbal or chai. It's the making of the tea, the process. Our kettle goes on the stove. You have a good fifteen minutes to air your problems or share your joys while waiting for the beast to boil. It doesn't whistle to interupt the conversation, there are no beeps or burrrrs to tell you its time to brew, just a soft, steady stream of steam.

Then there is the making of the tea. Me? White with two and leave the teabag in. Herbal it has to be peppermint, a tea that Aiden really likes as well, two sugars there too. Tony has his medium strong, white with two, Caitie and Conor tend to like weak and milky with one. And give it time to brew. An extra few minutes to think of the right thing to say or offer the right words of sympathy.

A cuppa is all about change as well. As I said before, I like herbal and prefer it to normal black tea. If I drink black tea, it has to be English Breakfast, unless I have a cold and then Earl Grey clears the sinuses. I have recently discovered Rooibos and like it with a dash of vanilla. My dad used to drink his tea white with two, always white with two. Then he and my mum seperated, divorced and he met my lovely stepmum. Now its black with one, she thinks he needs to be healthier. I find that sad, someone dictating your brew.

Tea holds memories, like no other liquid can. My kids all had a cuppa tea in their bottle when they were starting to wean . My day usually starts with my husband handing me my brew, it kick starts my day. Piping hot tea off an open fire was how we always had it when camping as a kid....and then there was that Monday, 9 years ago, in September.

I had changed to a tea called Invigorate, a succelent blend of mint and lemongrass, vanilla and thistle. Aiden was just over one, it had been an awful year for us, I had been diagnosed with Cancer and we had bravely fought and won that battle. On this Monday, I had my tea out on the back stairs and I remember thinking what a beautiful Spring day it was, so very quiet. It never occurred to me that it was too quiet.

I went in to turn on the tv as we normally did and I wondered why they were playing a drama movie at that time of the morning... at that point the first plane flew into the twin towers and our world changed forever. I will never forget that cup of tea, as long as I live.

Tea brings happiness, that hot cup taken while having your makeup done on your wedding day, or anticipation, sipping while waiting to hear news of a new baby. It gives solace when there are no words and also gives those of us who don't know how to grieve something to do. We make the tea, we follow the ritual, we give our offering and the recipient knows that that humble cup holds more than tea, it holds the feelings "I know, I understand, I will be here for you." It builds bridges and creates bonds, it makes a philosopher of us all.

And may it never grow cold....

Cin