A Cup of Tea

I've always received comfort from a cup of tea. It's something I learned from my Mom, for whom a cup of hot tea seemed to be about the most luxurious gift to herself imaginable. Her favorite was plain old Lipton's, sweetened. I drink mine the same way, except often with a dusting of cinnamon. Nothing tastes quite as good early in the morning, or anytime I'm struggling through a cold or migraine or whatever. It's hard to tell whether the comfort comes from the tea or its association with Mom, or both.

I'm drinking a second cup of tea this morning, and it tastes especially good. Part of that is due to the cold I have that just won't go away because of the weather swings and the heater being on and off and being around others with whom I keep swapping germs back and forth. But I think the real reason may be that today Sara and I plan to visit Mom's grave.

It'll be the first time for Sara to visit her grandmother's grave, and Mom's been gone for almost four years. We've talked about knowing that Mom's not there and how weird it is in a sense to visit a grave. But it is a reminder of Mom's life on this earth, and it's also a dose of reality. My visits over the years, both alone and with Dad, have been unremarkable. But today may be more, because for Sara, she's covering some new ground in grieving her grandmother.

I've been grieving Mom more this last year than the previous three. No doubt, part of that is the fact that Dad has been back here and I've been spending a lot of time with him. But the larger part of it has to do with my involvement with Lifeline Chaplaincy, making pastoral care visits with people who are often quite sick, and many who are in the process of dying. My feelings about Mom, her illness, and her death are very much a part of me as I minister to those going through similar processes, and I know that it helps me be effective in helping them. We were told in training that our pain would rise as we help others in pain, and it does. But it's okay, because it's a good sort of pain with Mom.

I know that each of us go through grief differently. But I'm learning better that it is a long-term process, and also that I don't want it any other way. Time for a little more tea!