I try to maintain a certain level of calm in the face of Chaos. One truth that shines very clearly to me is that all things, no matter how beloved, no matter how ‘precious’ or otherwise sanctified, will someday…break. Cease to be what they are, and return to what they were before. A diamond is just a shiny rock; silverware is another rock pounded flat and shaped into eating implements; and My Favorite Mocha Mug™ is just cleverly assembled and pleasingly painted mud.
Let me rephrase that.
My Favorite Mocha Mug™ was just cleverly assembled and pleasingly painted mud.
Alas. After giving twelve years of almost daily service (with breaks for certain holidays [snowman mugs at Christmas, orange monstrosities for Halloween] or because it was in the dishwasher), it finally happened. I grabbed. I missed. It fell. It bounced. It lay silent and unmoving in a spreading puddle of milk and coffee and cocoa…
At first, I thought it was OK, maybe just a little stunned…
But then as I was cleaning up the impressive splatter of mocha and found several large chunks of porcelain, I realized that no. It was not OK…
Drat. Not only broken, but shattered-blown-out-porcelain-dust-everywhere busted.
Wah.
I will miss this mug. I have loved this mug. My children loved to look at the dresses on it. Eldest used to be fascinated by them when she was a preschooler.
But things come, and go. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. To cling to possessions is to become possessed by them…and other ways to say…
I will not cry over a stupid coffee mug.
I will not cry over a stupid coffee mug.
I will not cry over a stupid coffee mug.
Farewell, old friend. You will be missed. Be assured that whatever new mug takes on the duty of my morning ritual, it will never replace you. Go freely into your next destiny, whatever it may be…
6 comments:
Poor mug. At least it had a full life of service. I have several that glare at me from the top shelf, yearning to be loved like that. But alas, they are too high and I cannot reach.
{{{hug}}} I would have cried. I have favourite mugs die too. It's hard to adapt to a new favourite, but I'm sure you will find a new love.
Is that a baby-changing-table-cushion on top of your washing machine?
Go ahead and mourn the loss of your favorite mug. If you have the time and talent, maybe you can do a plaque where you break the mug and embed the shards in plaster/concrete/grout...
Oh No! I am such a sentimentalist when it comes to my things. I have glued the handles back on several mugs and used them until the handle fell off again and I realized I was in danger of getting burned.
I hope you find another mug to get equally attached to.
My solution is to block up the hole with duct tape (on the inside) and then plant up the mug with some herbs.
- Pam (naturally, the herbs don't flourish, but that's my non-green thumb)
Post a Comment