I broke a crystal wine glass today.
I didn’t do it on purpose. Nobody deliberately breaks a glass, especially a piece of fine crystal.
It was one of my set of wedding crystal that I now use and enjoy on a daily basis. I feel elegant when drinking my wine out of the platinum rimmed goblet, or sipping a glass of water or a taste of cold milk from one of this lovely set. This simple activity takes me out of the ordinary, and into the extraordinary! There’s just something special about enjoying a meal on one of my mother’s Radford china plates with my sterling flatware and my lovely crystal while sitting at the little kitchen counter in my apartment. It is good for my soul.
The entire set rested in a china cabinet for years, only seeing the light of day when I’d open up the cabinet every few years to wrap it up, one by one – oh, so carefully – and place each piece into a sturdy cardboard carton preparing for my next move. Maybe once a year, if they were lucky, they would find themselves displayed on the dining room table for a Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, but it has been years since those days of dining room extravaganza.
Yes, I broke a wine glass today. I accidentally hit it against the kitchen sink while preparing to rinse it out after dinner. I didn’t fret its loss. I tenderly picked up the pieces, placed them gently into the kitchen trash can with a silent “thank you for your service”, and noted that now I have one less glass to worry about.
Yet, in spite of my seemingly cavalier attitude about this event, I mourn its loss. This little wine glass represented one of my many starry-eyed and romantic dreams of marriage, home, and family. Nothing turned out as I had envisioned as a nineteen-year-old, planning a wedding and accepting gifts from friends and family, while collecting my sets of china, crystal, and silverware. Life happened, and along with it, divorce. Disappointments and loss came my way. Children grew up and showed little interest in these things that were so very dear to me. But tonight, as I picked up the pieces of the wine glass, I said a little prayer of thanks for my journey and for the place I am today.
Goodbye, little wine glass. I’ll miss you, but I still have six more on the shelf, waiting.