Don't Cry Over Broken Dishes

 I have an interesting collection of dishes, glasses and bowls.  Some of them match, with a few odd pieces.  I like the mixed selection.  It brings me joy.  Included in this set are the eight blue bowls I had to purchase because bowls were mysteriously breaking (I don't think I wrote about that nightmare). These bowls were thrifted because I refused to pay a lot for bowls that might somehow be broken by my children.  Of course, no bowls were broken after that purchase, and I now have a million quite a few on hand.

I have an assortment of plates, including a Christmas design.  A few of the plates are from Yiayia's (my grandmother) collection.  

The other day, I went to grab a bowl from my large assortment and instead of putting it on the counter, it fell to the floor.  Now, I think I have had these bowls (there were a total of six) for over twenty years.  They aren't the most beautiful bowls, but the memories that they hold.  I was shocked and sad.  I looked around and there was no one home.  I was looking for sympathy and possibly consolement.  I realize that they are just things, and all things can be replaced.  As I relived the memories in my head, I cleaned up pieces of the ceramic off the floor and discarded it into the trash.

The memories will live on forever in my mind, even when the actual piece has died and gone to another place.