We ~ this teacup and I ~ have an on-going relationship throughout the winter months. We meet every morning to share the warm, golden brew that nestles in its bowl. It's more than a drink that we share, it's the memories of people and places past, and a promise of a new day. Sometimes the cup gives up its golden liquid quickly and other times it drains slowly, each drop languishing on my tongue and in my mind.
Sometimes when I clean the tea stains off that cup and my teeth, I feel like I'm wiping away something special between us ~ a bond of memories and pleasure. And in the summer, when it gets stored away, safely, in the dark corner of my cupboards, I feel like I've walked away from a good friend. But we both know the truth.
I'd like to grow old with my little teacup. We will have a lot to say to each other.
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