7 April 2020
Castle Valley, UT
 

his morning, I asked Brooke what we could do to make this day feel productive. He said (not that interested), “I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” So I walked into the kitchen and sat down on the floor cross-legged and began to clean out a particular cupboard. It held Brooke’s grandmother, Helen Spencer Williams’s silver tea set that his mother, Rosemary had given to us. It was almost black with tarnish. 

I thought about my own grandmothers and how they would always “polish the silver” before a dinner party or holiday gathering or a Sunday family dinner after church and I suddenly longed for those gatherings. And before I realized it, I instinctively began polishing Helen’s tea set, each piece in hand revealing such beauty of form and purpose. I thought about her hands a century ago, doing this same ritual that took time.

I remembered family stories about her generosity of spirit, how she was kind and honored the dignity of each person. She was said to be curious. I felt close to her though we never met. 

And then, I took the shining tea set outside and put it on our table. I thought about how wonderful that day will be when we can invite neighbors over for tea. I found myself hoping everyone in the valley was okay and healthy and my thoughts traveled to friends and family far and near as my anxious mind returned to me.

I sat down at the table and listened to the quiet and was grateful for the wind.