Tonight, like many other nights, I sit at my dining room table and sip my steaming tea. It’s been a long, hard day—just like many others. The Life in a wheelchair brings challenges that can make each minute seem longer than it should. Simple tasks are no longer simple. I’ve had to ask my spouse several times today to pick things up from the floor or help me with small chores that used to take no thought at all. It’s frustrating, humbling, and sometimes heartbreaking.
Because of my hearing loss, conversation has become a chore. I hate having to ask people to repeat things over and over, and my poor husband gets tired of repeating himself. Sometimes it’s easier just to stay quiet. But I miss conversations—the laughter, the easy flow of words, the feeling of belonging.
Tonight, I got dressed and attended a little deck party a few doors down. There were maybe fifteen people there. It was a pretty evening, and it was nice to see my neighbors, but between my hearing struggles and worrying about being too far from the bathroom, I couldn’t relax. I was relieved when we left early and came home. I slipped into my nightgown, settled into my recliner, and felt peace again.
Then the coughing started. Each cough sent a sharp pain through my abdomen and lower back. So, I decided it was tea time—again.
Right now, I’m sipping on mullein tea, hoping it soothes my cough. (read more about mullein tea benefits)I wish I could lie in bed without pain, but I’ve learned that after a couple of hours on my side, my spine feels crooked, and I have to get up again. Of course, that means another bathroom trip—and I pray I don’t have an accident trying to transfer from bed to chair. When that happens, it’s hard not to feel defeated.
But here, in the stillness of the night, my tea in hand, I find peace. Looking out the window into the dark, I let my thoughts drift toward hope. I imagine a better world—a body made whole again, freedom from the chair, ears that hear the birds sing once more. I see myself walking my little rescue dog, playing with him, giving him silly baths. I imagine learning racquetball with my husband, visiting my kids and grandkids, maybe even painting again—brush in hand, tea nearby.
So this quiet tea ritual becomes more than comfort. It’s therapy for the soul. Each sip reminds me that even when life feels small or broken, there’s beauty to be found in small acts of care. My tea gives me permission to dream, to hope, to keep going.
Now, as I finish this cup, I’ll move to my recliner with a lemon cough drop and some water. Maybe I’ll get a few hours of sleep. Maybe not. But for now, this tea has given me something even better—a few moments of calm in the darkest of times.
Affiliate Links
This post may contain affiliate links, whichmeans that when a link is clicked and an item is purchased, I receive a small commission at no extra cost to you. Shirley
Key Takeaway
Even in pain and difficulty, small rituals—like making a cup of tea—can anchor us, soothe our spirits, and remind us that hope is still brewing quietly within.
– Shirley
.
Shirley, your post is deeply moving and beautifully written. You’ve captured the quiet strength it takes to keep going when life feels heavy. The way you describe your nightly tea ritual turns something so ordinary into a symbol of resilience and grace. Even through your pain, loneliness, and frustration, there’s such tenderness in the way you seek peace and hope. Your words remind us that healing isn’t always about fixing what’s broken—it’s often about finding stillness and comfort in small, sacred moments. I love how your tea becomes more than warmth in a cup; it’s a gentle companion that helps you dream of better days. Thank you for sharing this honest glimpse into your world. It’s a powerful reminder that even in the darkest times, hope quietly brews within us—one sip, one breath, one night at a time.
Andrejs, thank you so much for reading my post and your kind comment. I’ve gotten to rely on my herbal teas for both comfort and pain relief. My teas are mostly anti-inflammatory ones, and I’ve found them very effective in lowering my pain from degenerative discs and fibromyalgia. My favorites are Turmeric and Ginger. The mullein helps with my cough when my asthma kicks up. This fall it’s been especially difficult here in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas. Thanks again for your comment. – Shirley
What a beautifully honest post — thank you, Shirley Dawson, for sharing so vulnerably. That moment of holding a warm cup of tea and letting your thoughts drift into hope despite the daily struggles resonates deeply. ☕
Something I keep thinking about: how rituals (even simple ones like tea) can become anchors in our lives when everything else feels unsteady. You mention imagining walking your dog, playing racquetball, painting again — those dreams carry so much strength. In your experience, how has tea helped you name or hold on to these dreams?
Also curious: for others reading this — do you find a particular ritual (tea-time or otherwise) gives you a sense of calm or hope in challenging times? What does yours look like?
Kerry
Kerry, thanks for reading my post and your comment. I’ve been battling neuropathy pain for years along with pain from my degenerative discs. Over time, I’ve dropped using Tylenol and taken up using different herbal teas to help me cope with the discomfort and pain. My favorites for pain relief are turmeric and ginger (be sure to add some black pepper to activate the turmeric). I also like dandelion tea. The mullein is good for when I’m getting congestion or having an asthma flare-up. I buy organic teas and get many from “The Republic of Tea because I love their beautiful round containers for bags. I use bagged tea, but sometimes I diffuse leaves when I want to make enough to create a whole pitcher for cold tea. In my experience, pain tends to flare up at night, and since I have a lot of trouble sleeping, I do get up often during the night to drink my tea. BTW, lavender tea is known to help with sleep. Thanks again for your comment.
– Shirley