High in the cupboard my mom’s teapot resides. She doesn’t use it that much anymore but I took the chance to brew some tea for the two of us and took a steaming thermos down to share with her in her rehabilitation room.
She loved having some hot tea in the afternoons and I loved sharing it with her knowing that I was able to bring some liquid love to her from her own teapot.
I chose Constant Comment because I have memories of that being the “special tea” she brewed growing up and even though she does not remember that now she exclaimed about how good it was and how she would need to get some when she goes home.
Her teapot is sturdy and functional. I am not sure where it came from but it is a nice one.
This teapot will someday be in my collection and you know that I will cherish it as if it were the finest teapot made of the finest china. Because sometimes the memories associated with something make it priceless.
Just like the time spent with my mom
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“Now that lilacs are in bloom
She has a bowl of lilacs in her room
And twists one in her fingers while she talks.
“Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know
What life is, you who hold it in your hands”;
(slowly twisting the lilac stalks)
“You let it flow from you, you let it flow,
And youth is cruel, and has no remorse
And smiles at situations which it cannot see.”
I smile, of course,
And go on drinking tea.”
― T.S. Eliot, Prufrock and Other Observations