I punctuate my life with cups of tea.

There were the many precious cups shared with my nana from her beautiful old teapot that started it all.

The cups shared over tears with dear friends as we prepare to face the next steps in our lives.

Those to turn my brain on each morning and mark the beginning of the day.

Those cups clutched like an anchor over difficult conversations.

Then there are the ones enjoyed alone, to help me gather my thoughts.

Cups of tea to unite the room and share in some good news.

And then those shared sombrely around a room heavy with grief.

Those handed over silently when there is nothing else to be said.

Even those cups brewed to put the puzzle pieces together, after a hazy night with your friends.

A warm cup of tea provides an interlude,

A comma within the novel of a life.

A moment of reflection and pause, between life’s ever-changing shores.