01 August 2009
A broken glass...
... 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....
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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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