Cup of Tea

The more siblings you have, the more you have to lose and the more heartache you feel.There was a big age difference between my brother and sisters and I. They were all much older or younger and more times than not caught up in their own world. Which really made me feel at times like an only child.  I know that life and death is not unique to anyone person and that everyone at one time or another has to say goodbye.  No matter how many years have passed I can't help but miss them even if they didn't attend my tea parties. 
I don' t know why my mind has been drifting back to childhood. I guess in ways the early years somehow guide us in the present. I have always had this fascination with china dinnerware. I guess like most little girls , pretending to have tea parties is pretty much the norm. But somehow you don't always lock in the many memories but a few stand out , almost as if they have become a permanent fixture in your memory bank.
In the old houses in the city, the basements or at least one of the rooms use to be dirt. My father spent a lot of time in the basement, where he set up shop and worked fixing television sets and other random electrical items. When he wasn't working he had a ham radio and would talk to people in different languages from all over the world. I found that even at the young age of six the magic of it all to be quite fascinating. Not always understanding what he was saying or what the people on the other end of the ham radio said, it still seemed special in some unusual way. I would set up my table with various china that didn't match. The china dishes my mother no longer wanted and I would  pretend that I had guest from all over the world.   The guest which was usually my baby doll sat on the other side of the make shift table. That was my first experience with the pretty dishes that not everyone thought was so special.
For some odd reason that visual, the curtain that separated the two basement rooms, the atmosphere, the little table set for a tea party and  the imaginary world that I created all blended with the sounds of various languages and are as clear as the first time I heard them.
 On holidays I feel like that little girl as I set the dinner table in a formal way. My daughter always says , " It's okay if you decide this year to use paper plates."  I don't think she gets it or understands the simple joy I feel when hosting. In away whether for a moment or an hour nothing else matters than pleasing the people who have come to share in my world.
I turned a basement into a palace, cardboard box into a dining table, a dirt floor into carpeting and miss matched china into a party. I created a world where I was queen for a day or at least for the moment.
So back to reality. I went shopping today and picked up a few for me items, one being my polka dot muck boots....oh I will be feeding the chickens in such class...lol. Or at least I won't be sliding down the hill with the feed and watering bucket.
When it comes down to it we are never guaranteed tomorrow, so in this format of blogging I want to take a moment and  express my love ...forever and a day or is that to the moon and back? That is the coolest thing about writing, when we are long gone, the words will live on.  The documentation of heart and soul to define a beautiful love story. Pouring you a cup of tea...