For the record, tea does not fix everything. I know some people will say nothing seems as bad once you’ve had a nice tea. Some people believe tea has the ability to cure a myriad of illness and mend a broken heart. I’m not sure where these people get their information from. Or maybe I’m just using the wrong type of tea.
Please don’t shake your head or make those comforting words. We all know I’m a coffee drinker at heart so it is utterly possible, most likely probable that I using the wrong tea, or doing the whole tea thing wrong. I can accept that, it’s a very real truth after all.
What I cannot accept, what I will not accept is not being able to assist Beloved as he goes through a rough patch. The kind of patch that says you must lose a loved ones to the arms of death. And there is no promise that this parting will be comfortable either. But it isn’t our place to say, just to be there as best we can. Beloved needs to be there for his family member and I need to be there for him.
Friends I’ve made gallons, no correction it should read as oceans, of tea and nothing has gotten better. No pain has been eased, no smiles have turned up corners of mouths. No comfort has come from one of the pots I’ve brewed.
As a matter of fact, not that anyone is keeping track, I’ve poured endless cups of tea, most of which has gone untouched, or barely touched. Not all of the tea I’ve poured has been made by my hands either. Not that it really matters, except maybe in some small way it does. To me. Because it means there is a possibility that it isn’t my inexperience with making tea properly that’s causing the issue rather it’s the emotional state of everyone.
Right now there are four cups of tea, each colouring to different degrees sitting in the room. Beloved has poured himself these, taken them to go and sit and then decided he didn’t want the tea after all. Unless it’s that he draws comfort from knowing there is a cup at his elbow. Ready and waiting should he need it, or want it.
It doesn’t help that I’m on summer cold number three either and feeling more useless than I usually do. I’m pretty sure there is no level of uselessness beyond what I feel right now. I want to curl up and sleep like Rip Van Winkle. I want to wake up to a bright shiny day where I have energy and curiosity. But that eludes me thanks my worries and my cold.
The last thing I want to hear now is someone saying tea, or tea time or anything of that ilk. Because I know tea doesn’t fix, heal or mend all things. It provides a person a ritual which you can get lost in briefly, but you can’t stay there forever. Eventually you have to come up out of the tea and face the rest of the world. When you do, if you are fortunate you will face it with friends and loved ones. If you aren’t as fortunate, you will face it alone. Know this my friends, no matter what, that cup of tea you brew won’t protect you from anything. Because it’s just tea, boiled water and dried leaves steeped in ritual and tradition.