It was regular black tea for me back in the early sixties. I remember being six, and my mother allowed me to drink it. Coffee was taboo, of course. I’m sure she didn’t know that this particular type of tea packed more caffeine than coffee. I didn’t care. There was something special about being able to drink it. My Sunday mornings were earmarked by comics, rye toast and a cup of tea.
When I was a little older, around 5th grade, tea and Yahtzee became a thing with my best friend and I. Back then, there weren’t any special teas filling up the aisle. It was simply Tetly, Lipton, Red Rose, and the store brand that filled the shelf.
When we became reaquainted with three other girls on our block, high schoolers now, tea was part of the equation. Whether we were playing games, watching TV or gossiping about boys, tea was always the accompaniment. We added sugar, sometimes lemon and sometimes a dash of cream. It was still the black tea kind. I think it was in the mid to late 70’s when the herbal tea flavors arrived. By then, most of us girls had gone our separate ways, myself off to Arizona and then Oregon.
I would occasionally drink tea as I got older, but by then, I became a coffee addict. At work, it would give me the fuel needed to get through. It was there at break time, fresh pots beckoning with enticing coffee bean flavor bursting through the quick drip machines.
When I was newly pregnant with my first child, I discovered herbal tea. I started work before the residents got back to the group home. Oftentimes, no other staff were around yet. There were lots of herbal teas to choose from. I still think of those late fall, early winter, gray days. There was that chill in the air, rain falling, and nothing like a hot cup of tea to get my shift started. Tea was my friend back in those days. I had all-day sickness in the first trimester of pregnancy. The herbal teas were one delight I could enjoy without repercussions.
And now, this wet, chilly autumn day reminds me of those times at the group home. I have chosen Lemon Ginger today. Watching the rain, I gently sip, feeling my inside warming after having gone through the cold shivers of a shopping day. I get hot doing even the slightest chore, but then, when I cool down, the cold sweat chills me to the bone. There’s nothing like tea to turn that around and warm up my innards. It’s like a meditation to sip and savor and be one with the moments as they go by. Tea is still with me sixty years after the tradition started. It will carry me through however many more years I have left on this earth. Pinky up!
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