Tea for Two

I stood looking out the kitchen window lost in grief, sipping on coffee in my favorite mug at my Baba’s apartment. The aroma was wafting into my nose and it hit me that this is the last time I would step foot in here.

I gripped the hot mug tighter as I was trying to soak in every detail about this place. My mind is quickly going through thousands of memories that were made here, almost like a slide show of the last 30 years, all being my favorite.

My Baba Mary peacefully passed away of natural causes at the age of 97. It is amusing to use peaceful to describe anything about my Baba. Don’t get me wrong, my Baba was a lady. She was never rude or disrespectful, however, God help you if you disrespected any of her children or grandchildren. She had a way of elegantly putting you in your place, and by the time she was done, one would walk away scratching their heads and vowing to never cross Baba Mary again.

As a child I never wanted to leave my Baba and go home. I would sob in the car for the entire ride. She was my soulmate and we always just understood each other. She was in the delivery room when I was born and she witnessed my first breath. She always said that at that moment she knew I was special even though I cried a lot. With a twinkle in her eye, she would laugh and tell me that those cries were the sweetest sounds she had ever heard.

Baba was a fancy lady without being flashy. She understood good quality as well quiet luxury. She had a weekly appointment at the beauty salon to get her hair and nails done. She worked hard for what she had. Before I would arrive, Baba would get out her most precious china and set the table for a girl’s tea time. The china meant the world to her. It was the last gift her mother gave as she was leaving her home in what is called Poland today to begin a new life in America. Her mother said, “Mary, this was my wedding china. I never used it because I was saving it for a special occasion. I want you to use it because every day is a special occasion. When you have a granddaughter, pass it down to her.” Our fancy tea time always included scrumptious treats that Baba baked that morning. There were no bakery treats at Baba’s. Everything was always homemade. She would also let me dress up in her folk costume that she used to wear as a child. I used to feel so fabulous wearing her costume. The tight fitting black vest was elaborately decorated with bright colorful embroidery of reds, oranges, and yellow. She also had a matching black full flowing skirt and I used to twirl around pretending to be Baba as a child. She used to have this special tea time with her Baba and she wanted to continue this tradition.

Baba’s apartment was in the East Village in New York City, and hands down was my favorite place to be. The neighborhood folks were primarily of Eastern European descent and everyone knew and loved Baba Mary. She was entrenched in her community and devoted so much of herself and her time to it. She was proud of her heritage and made sure her children and grandchildren were immersed in it as well. After our tea time, Baba would take me to run her errands. She loved showing off her grandchildren and bragging about our accomplishments. Our first stop was to light a candle and say a prayer at St. Nicholas Carpatho-Rusyn Orthodox church. Baba loved her church and cherished the teachings of the Holy Scripture and traditions of her faith. She was deeply tied to the customs from her youth and instilled in us the beauty of her homeland and the importance of carrying on family and faith into future generations. Our next stop was the East Village Meat Market to buy kielbasa for our dinner. On the way home Baba would tell me stories about my Dido as he he passed away when I was a baby. She never remarried because she always said that her children and grandchildren were her everything and had no interest in dating or remarrying. She also told us that she had plenty of things and activities to keep her busy, especially spending time with her grandchildren.

Baba’s wisdom was infinite. She always knew what to do, what to say, where to get it, and mean “it” being anything from breakups, jobs, school bullies, and just life in general.

When I was young, Baba didn’t reveal too much of her childhood, or the reason she decided to leave Poland at 16 to come to America. As I got older, she began to disclose more of her life story. Baba was a curious child. Her whimsy and ambition were sometimes not understood by her parents. Although they loved her dearly and were always kind, they were strict and the education system there was rudimentary and ended in the eighth grade. They felt that Baba needed to be educated and working on their farm for the rest of her life would just make her miserable. That wasn’t the life they wanted for her.

Then came the story of a boy which she shared with me after my first heart break. She dried my tears and said that she was also heartbroken at 16. She had been in love with a boy from her village and her parents did not approve. Baba would sneak out late at night to have clandestine meetings in the loft of the barn. They were both taking a big chance as their parents would not be forgiving with punishment. She had always dreamt of living in America, New York City to be exact. She was hoping that this boy would go with her so they could be married and start a family. As luck would have it, Baba’s father caught them and they were forbidden to see each other. At that time, her parents agreed to let her go to New York. She had an Aunt who was already established and would sponsor her. Even though she was excited to go to America, she came to the realization that she may never see her parents again. They did not have the money for them to make the trip as they saved to buy her a one way ticket.

So at 16 Baba Mary made began her two week journey from Poland to Ellis Island via ship. After a brief quarantine at Ellis Island, her Aunt came to collect her. As they exited the ferry, her eyes shone with excitement and could hardly catch her breath. Their first stop was Macy’s to purchase some updated clothing as she owned only two dresses and one much worn pair of boots. Her Aunt signed her up to take an English class as well as to earn her GED. Those classes were at night so she was able to secure day time job as a housekeeper wealthy family uptown. She made friends at school as they were all immigrants. Every Friday night, her group would gather in her Aunt’s apartment to talk about their homelands and share their cultures as well as native cuisine. These women became Baba’s family. Their friendships blossomed and they celebrated all of life’s milestones together.

By sheer coincidence, Baba met the love of her life, my Dido. She was in a rush to get to work one day, and the subway had a mechanical problem so she was going to be delayed. It turns out, she was on the same subway car as one of her classmates and with him was the man that would sweep her off of her feet and become her husband. The best part was that he had also emigrated from Poland. When they met, Baba was 17 and my Dido was 21. Baba always described him as a kind and thoughtful man. He was a wonderful husband and father, and they supported and loved each for 40 years until her passed away at 61. They built a beautiful family and raised three children.

As we got older, we would still have our girl’s tea time, but they looked a little different. I grew out of Baba’s folk costume and our conversations became deeper as I wanted to soak in every morsel of her wisdom. I cherished every minute of our time together. As Baba began to slow down, we didn’t run errands together anymore, as I would pick up what she needed. I was lucky to have my Baba in my life until I was 30 years old. She was able to attend graduations, my wedding, and the birth of my first child and for that I am so blessed. Toward the end of her life she started giving her grandchildren her sentimental belongings. After what would be our last girl’s tea, I was washing the precious china. I looked over at Baba and as she nodded her head, she said it was time for me to take the china home. I begged her to let me leave it as we had many more girl’s tea times. “Please promise that you will use and love this china like I did?” My stomach dropped, and with tears in my eyes I said “Yes Baba, I promise to use it and I will teach my children and future grandchildren everything that you have taught me. I will carry on your beautiful traditions proudly.”

That night I dreamt of girls’ tea time with a little girl who looked like Baba Mary as a child. The phone ringing dragged me away from the beautiful dream. It was my mother. I needed to come to Baba’s apartment right away as she started to decline during the night.

When I got there she was surrounded by her children and grandchildren. She told us that when she died we shouldn’t be sad. She wanted us to throw a party just like the one’s she had in Poland as a child. She always said that “Life should be celebrated, not mourned as we will see each other again one day.” We were singing her favorite songs and reliving our wonderful memories of Baba when she took her last breath.

As I emptied the coffee from my favorite mug and began to pack up the china, I heard a beautiful birdsong. I looked out the window and there was a vivid red cardinal singing away. Cardinals were Baba’s favorite bird. This was her telling me that she made it to heaven. For Baba and I, life became full circle that day. She was there when I entered the world and I was there when she exited. Rest in peace Baba Mary, until we meet again.