Before you go thinking that I have it all together.
That losing all of our dishes.
The ones from our wedding.
The ones that we have shared thousands of meals over.
Was no big deal.
It is a big deal.
I have cried.
I have complained.
I have really, really wanted to hurl the broken pieces at the wall.
Would it feel great to do that?
For a minute.
But they still would be broken.
I would have to clean up all over again.
Plus, my wall would be jacked up.
So I don't.
I have really one choice.
Accept and move on.
Whether or not one of the three parties involved takes responsibility and reimburses us.
Or if we have to buy cabinet and dishes on our own.
They are all replaceable.
All but one.
The one that really made me cry.
In college I worked at a paint your own pottery shop.
Dishes and serving pieces were not on my radar at the time.
If only I knew what my grown up self would want I would have painted dishes and bowls every day.
But I did paint one bowl.
A bowl that is very special to me.
I bowl that I use every time I eat my favorite meal.
So out of the rubble I picked out the pieces.
This bowl needed to be rebuilt.
A memory of this time.
Piece by piece I glued.
Little by little it took on a shadow of it's former shape.
I hate puzzles and it came out somewhat crazy.
But I like me some crazy.
Now it has a new purpose.
A bright and happy purpose.
All full of cracks, gaps, and mismatched pieces.
But still my bowl.
Later on this week I am going to get a babysitter.
Take myself to a pottery studio and make a new bowl.
A better bowl.
A memory that beauty can come from disaster.
It will be aqua.
It will be amazing.
I can't wait.