Cheers

Isn't it amazing how an object can be so tightly connected to a memory. One thing I have gotten from the disgusting show Hoarders or my old time fave Clean Sweep, the object is not the memory. The memory is within us, in our mind and in our heart.

It doesn't make it any easier, however, when something happens to said object.

The other day we had a Brady Bunch comes to life moment. Santa, still don't know what he was thinking, brought an indoor basketball hoop for doors. Daddy stuck in the kitchen which I knew was not a good idea. All day Auntie kept discouraging its use while we were cooking.

Never one to listen on first or second or third, who am I kidding, request, Jacob kept playing. In slow motion the ball (not nerf mind you) bounced on to the counter and into my wedding glass which was housing the remnants of my chocolate wine.

Crash, two pieces....frustrated screech, remorseful cry...

What do you mean broken? you say. It looks perfectly fine to me, you say. Well the next day I went to pick it up and the chocolate wine acted like glue...held that sucker together.

So the point of this post? The object is attached to the memory. The broken, dirty cup has yet to leave my counter. I just can't be the one to throw it away, just as I couldn't throw any of my babies' blankets away.

Thanks for visiting ♥ Michelle