…Brocante… French… Antiques…
Stories collected while living in France…
1800s Spode Demi-Tasse
Found at the Avignon International Fair over fifteen years ago.
Setting for eight.
Plates, saucers, demi tasses, teacups, creamer and sugar bowl to match.
Less than hundred dollars for the lot.
While carrying a tray with the demi-tasses back to the cupboard I tripped.
Five demi tasses danced to dust.
…
We hold people, places, things which in time became part of who we are. They tell stories, memories, feelings… they gather history as we love and live with them. They become intertwined with our lives: Connected like dot to dot to one person thing or another, helping us recall who we are, where we have been and what we have learned. Little things, big moments, pat on the back emotion… one drop after another while filling our souls with defining moments that remind us: This is who you are.
When the demi tasses hit the floor I remembered a moment way back in time when my boyfriend died.
I was carrying a large salad bowl that someone had brought over for the funeral, I tripped with it in hand it fell shattering to the ground. As I stooped down to pick up the broken pieces it spoke symbolically to me of my time with my boyfriend… Some pieces I could hold knowing they would always be a part of me, some pieces the ones with sharp edges I was careful to pick up the fear of being cut reminded me of his sudden death and the pain and sorrow, some pieces had no form no recognizable connection except that they were part of the bowl. I thought of those as parts of John I had yet to discover and would only hear about and hold true. And then there were the pieces shattered into shards, that became dust or maybe shining stars leading into tomorrow, pieces of a future I did not know yet knew he would not be there.
We let go, we hold on, we become who we are over time…
Some pieces are remembered, others drift away and there are shards that cannot be seen yet somehow without our knowing they light the way.
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