Everything has a Story to Tell

 

 

Spode coffee cup 1800s

 

 

1800s Spode DemiTasse

Found at the Avignon International Fair over twenty years ago.

A setting for eight.

Plates, saucers, demitasses, teacups, creamer and sugar bowl to match.

While carrying them back to the cupboard I tripped.

Five demitasses danced to dust.

We hold people, places, things which in time became part of who we are. They tell us our story, hold our memories, feelings, they gather our 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 demitasses hit the floor I remembered a moment in time when my boyfriend John died.

I was carrying a large salad bowl that someone had brought over for the funeral, I tripped and it shattered to the ground. As I stooped down to pick up the broken pieces it spoke symbolically to me of my time with John, Some pieces I could pick up and 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 with me.

We let go, we hold on, we become who we are over time.

Gather what you love and hold it within.

Everything has a story to tell.

x

Some pieces are remembered, others drift away and there are shards that cannot be seen yet somehow without our knowledge they light the way.



Comments

11 responses to “Everything has a Story to Tell”

  1. Jacklynn Lantry

    And everyone too. I’ve always said “Everyone has a story.” You never know what another person has been through. What has shaped their life, why they do what they do or how they came to be who they are. It helps me to be patient and kind and less judgmental. Corey, your stories are wonderful.

  2. You write so beautifully and also are very wise…
    Ali

  3. Your story of John strikes a chord…such beautiful picture words.

  4. Thank you for your words.

  5. Everything you post touches my heart deeply.
    Thank you
    Love Jeanne

  6. How we accept loss is a big part of our character. You look for the good in everything. I remember when I was a child and my younger brother and his cousin climbed the dish closet to reach the glasses. The whole cabinet fell over, breaking every dish and glass in it. I cried at such a needless and violent loss. These were everyday dishes and jelly jar glasses so no great value but I was stunned by the sudden and absolute destruction. Sixty years later I remember it like yesterday. I am still not good at accepting loss. I need to take a lesson from you.

  7. My mom is 97 and last Wednesday she surprised me with another story I never heard before. She told me about having to take my two cousins to an orphanage sixty years ago. Just her in the car with the two boys. She told me that she almost turned around and brought them to our house. All I could think of when she told me this was the pain it caused her and the fact I’d have had to share my bedroom with two more boys. (I already had three brothers.)

  8. During a week of great loss to me your words are beautifully poignant. A week ago today two very dear friends were shot in their own home. One died instantly, the other died later that night. Yesterday and today was spent with many mourners, family, friends, clients of these two wonderful people who lost their lives so tragically and way too soon. Both husband and wife were my chiropractors. They touched many lives, helped so many people (both were doctors). This small rural New England town will be in shock for a long time.

  9. How terribly sad and horrific. I am so sorry for you. I pray for healing and grace for you and your community. x

  10. Always so beautiful.

  11. Sharon CrigSt

    Having lost my first husband 31 years ago at the age of 39, this blog and your profound words resonated deeply with me. Thank you, Corey!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *