... but it was more than just a glass. It was a little link to a perfect memory - years ago - "antiquing" with my parents and my oldest, who was only 4 at the time. I happened upon these cute little frosted juice glasses - coffee-colored with a little opaque white stem. It seemed I had seen or drank from glasses like that as a kid. I liked them - my Mom agreed (which was nice) - and my Dad (who I no longer have) bought them for me. Silly. Now... all but one are broken. Life in a house of kids, I guess. My Dad would approve. I can hear him now telling me that they are only material belongings.... and that... that is how life is... things broken... things fixed.... happy days....sad days....
Pig lung transplanted into brain-dead human
2 hours ago
1 comment:
Even if your Dad would approve of them being broken, that doesn't mean it's not OK to be sad because of what they represent.
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