Today, under white winter skies, Tessa and I took our daily, long walk.  When I'm not walking and talking on the phone, I find myself reflecting on my past.  I don't know why my thoughts take me to my past.  Maybe it's because the future grows shorter and sweet memories of the past help to offset the aches and pains of aging.  Yes, I am not THAT old yet, but the subtle changes of a body well aged have begun to appear.  When I was younger, I was very busy raising children, enjoying my life with Jim, getting an education and pursuing my career.  I had so many things on my mind, that quiet reflection and resurrection of past memories rarely occurred.  With age, wisdom truly does show up!  Life experiences and the luxury of time for deep thought allows me to travel back down the roads of my life.

    Today, we walked through the old cemeteries behind our house. Tessa and I like to power walk, but when we enter the cemetery I feel the need to slow down, pay homage to the residents, learn their names, see the families and read the stones that speak to their final day on this Earth.   It's a great place to walk!  The residents are very quiet and wild violets, impatient for Spring, are already blooming. History fills the air creating a great place to reflect on the past. I started thinking about traditions and wondered if today's young families maintain old family traditions in their homes.  Families today are very busy and often stressed.  I do hope they make time for traditions.  The small, seemingly insignificant traditions my parents shared with me remain strong in my heart and mind and provide a reason to smile when I think about them.  

    Today, while we wandered through the cemetery, the sky grew whiter and the temperature dropped.  I started thinking about the nice hot cup of tea I would make when I returned home and I thought about my long relationship with tea and how and why it warms both my body and soul.  It was because of my Mother.  When we were children, my brother and I were awakened every morning by Mom.  She always woke us up 15 minutes early and brought us a hot cup of tea to drink in bed.  It was what she called "baby tea" which was made by dunking a teabag briefly in a cup of boiled water, then adding a lot of milk and some sugar.  I honestly do not remember a single day where this didn't occur!  Of course, my brother and I never entertained the thought that this event was special, we thought everyone woke up this way!  Mom was always cheerful in the morning and she would put the tea on the bookcase headboard of our beds and say "Good morning, time to drink your tea and wake up".  I never asked but suspect that is how she and her sister were greeted each morning by their Mother as well.  The homes in England were quite cold till the stove or fire was lit and spread it's warmth around the room.  The "tea in bed" tradition was most likely intended to gently wake and warm us before our bare feet hit the cold floor. My assumed last cup of tea in bed, served to me by Mom, was the morning of my wedding.  I had gone back to my old bedroom the night before the wedding.  It was a wonderful decision.  As I lay in my old bed looking at my childhood belongings that remained in the room I felt surrounded by love.  Mom had mostly transformed the room for visiting guests, but when I partially shut the bedroom door, I smiled when I noticed she had left an old "Precious Moments" sticker on the back of the door.  I had put it on the door on the first day we moved into the home and Mom said she never had the heart to remove it, instead it warmed her heart to keep it.  Keeping the door partially open, I fell asleep to the music of my Mother's voice and her best friend Jo laughing and singing in the kitchen while they were putting the finishing touches on the food they were serving at our wedding reception.   The next morning, Mom brought me what I thought was my last cup of tea in bed.  She sat on the edge of the bed and told me the story of how between sips of wine last night, she had somehow had her wedding ring slip off her finger.  She always mixed her potato salad with her bare hands and she was sure that was where the ring was located.  Loud giggling and laughter was heard as both Mom and Jo put their clean hands in bowls of potato salad. They rooted around for the ring, an event much modeled on the British tradition of putting a farthing in the Christmas pudding in hopes of finding it but in that case, hands in the pudding was not part of the formula. They found the ring and ended the night happy, but very tired.  Mom, sitting on the bed sharing her story while I drank the tea (which always tasted best when she made it) was my idea of a perfect wedding day morning.  My last cup of tea delivered to me in bed by my Mom happened shortly after Eric's birth.  Mom had come to spend a few nights at our house to help out because Jim had to go to work.  Eric had awakened in the middle of the night because he was hungry.  I reached for him in the bassinet and cuddled him while I nursed him.  There was a soft tap on the bedroom door and it was Mom.  She had heard Eric cry and so she made me a cup of tea and brought it to me in the bedroom.  Mom was always there for me and in times when I really needed her, she was there with a hot cup of tea.  To this day, when I sip my tea, I think of Mom and feel her cupful of love!

    Well, you can't finish a "today" without thinking about a "tonight".  Mom and Dad had a beautiful ritual for getting us to go to sleep.  It was a tradition we maintained until we thought ourselves too old to continue (though I wish now we had ignored the artificial "age limit" and continued).  Our bedtime as small children was between 7:30 and 8:00 pm.  My brother and I shared a bedroom for several years.  Mom would tuck us in and Dad would often come in and read us a story.  We were then duly notified that it was time to go to sleep.  Of course, with both of us in the same room, we didn't agree that we should sleep.  It was then, that Mom and Dad started a tradition.  They would tell us they were going to bed too and change into their nightwear.  All the lights and TV were turned off and off they would go to bed leaving their door open.  We would then participate in a "round robin".  Mom would start by shouting loudly from her bed "Good Night, sweet dreams, love you all, see you in the morning", then it was my turn to say the same, then Richard's and lastly Dad's.  We would go several rounds and filled the air with funny high pitched and low pitched versions as well as lots of giggles.  The game was to continue until others stopped answering.  Mom and Dad would ultimately fade the phrase out with sleepy voices and loud yawns.  My brother and I decided then that it was time to quit and go to sleep.  I would tell Richard a story in a whispered voice and off we would drift to sleep.  It took us several years to figure out that Mom and Dad had been faking and that after we became quiet, they would creep out of their bedroom, quietly shut our doors and resume their night in the living room with lights and TV on.  I was the one that discovered their ruse after many years, when I got up from a bad dream and heard the TV on.  I never told my brother, we just continued to play for a couple of more years since he was younger than me.

    Starting the day with a hot cup of tea from a loving Mom and ending it with a "Round Robin" full of love was perfect!  I remember making our boys tea in bed...not everyday like my Mom, but frequently.  I wonder if they remember?  We made a new tradition with our boys.  Every Friday night was family night.  We'd go shopping someplace fun where there was unusual food and each person would pick something out to eat at our family night picnic on the coffee table.  Sometimes, we would order pizza.  A rental movie was chosen and we'd seat on the floor around the coffee table eating and watching the movie.  It was a break from eating at the dinner table which we always did as a family.

Did any of you do anything like this that you clearly remember and treasure to this day?  I'd love to hear about your family traditions.  I already know some...friend Joanie had hot dog day at her Mother's one day a week.  I believe Marge (her Mom) did it on Tuesdays, but I'm not sure.  I knew that Joanie was always busy that night because she had to go to the hot dog day dinner.  I think it was Marge's way of insuring she would see her adult children on a regular basis.  I can't remember if she did it when Joanie was young or not.  I went to hot dog night once with Joanie and we had a great time.  Mel and Doug do Tamales for Christmas every year with her huge family.  The photos clearly reflect all of the fun and love that happens on Tamale day every year!  Feel free to share yours with me.  

Right now, despite my doubts it would continue, we have beautiful fluffy snowflakes softly falling to the ground and draping our winter landscape with a beautiful blanket of white.  I'd say it's a good time for a hot cup of tea, a bit of Jeanne's famous fruitcake, and a good old-fashioned book!