By Elizabeth Dardes 
Of all the Hello Kitties, Shopkins, and Strawberry Shortcake friends, my daughter’s favorite toy was the tea set from Grandma and the endless hours she played tea party with my mom. While my boys were making roadways in the dirt for their cars and trucks, my little girl was sipping tea around a table with her bunny, a bear or two, and Grandma.
My daughter was my third and last child and my only girl. I had many baby dolls, art supplies, and button-equipped toys throughout, but it was my mom who introduced the tea set and the beautiful art of taking quiet time and leisure to enjoy another’s company and a delightful spot of tea. The two of them eventually graduated to a small china set after outgrowing the plastic ware. They would then blow on pretend steam from a cup of water with a piece of cake. I know mom was as tired as I, but how smart of her to present the best form of play for both herself and my energetic toddler. I can see my little girl setting the table with a cheery tablecloth, a bunch of wildflowers, and their precious china.
We lived 800 miles from my mom and dad when my children were little, but Mom was with me for every birth. I was her only daughter, but I didn’t realize how wise she was until I was a mom myself. Although far in miles, we were close in heart. My children knew her and loved her despite the distance. She stayed with us for summer beach days and hosted us up north every Christmas.
It was tradition to wake up on Christmas morning, open presents, and enjoy a light breakfast before hopping in the car for our 14-hour drive to Grandma’s. Never did any of the three complain that the drive was too far; they were too excited. We’d experience another magical Christmas in her house that smelled of gingerbread, cinnamon, and pine. The days were spent sledding outside, walking her dog, or just lingering where it was warm inside. My kids were cozy and so happy at Grandma’s.
My mom was graceful, but not always fancy. I remember many childhood dinners of cut-up hot dogs on paper plates—floral and lovely, but paper, nonetheless. Whatever she prepared was royal to me. She did the same for my children. What they loved was her undivided attention. She’d dance with them, listen to their stories, and have the greatest interest in their milestones.
I was 42 when I had my daughter. She arrived early, and I had been steps away from total bed rest. Mom took care of everything. For one lunch, she prepared me a tuna salad with parsley and shaved carrots. Simple but special. She knew the pleasure of serving others, and she knew the value of time. Like the tea party, peaceful, quality time spent with those you love is what matters.
She is no longer with us, but my children have only fond memories and got to know her as though she had lived across the street. She gave me what I had yet to learn. She showed me how to linger and how to savor what’s important in life, like the joy of a tea party.
by Tania Lorena Rivera 
