[MorningBroken]

I put the tea and juice in the fridge today, Mom. Two days before Thanksgiving, just as always, to get it good and chilled, just like you always said. I got the cinnomon, and the cloves, just like always. Fresh oranges to make orange wedges from, just like always.

It's been 14 years, Mom, since we last drank spiced tea together. It's been 14 years since your teacups have moved from my mantle. This year my little girl will be five. Five years old is old enough, you said when we sat at the kitchen table and talked. You'd be so proud of her mom, a blonde haired, blue eyed angle, with your stubborn streak, and a heart of gold. You were always right about everything Mom, even the little grand-daughter you never got a chance to see.

She's so excited about this tradition. Ready to be a "big kid", and she wants your cup to be the one she drinks out of. She says its the "most prettiest".

I didnt want to Mom, I really didnt. But its a tradition in the family that your Mother and your grandmother started, one you passed down to me, and I know you expected me to pass down to my daughter. But I lost something today of you mom, its almost as if you had passed away again. This feeling of loss is so strong. After 14 years, I had to wash the teacups, Mom.

I miss you.