As I've mentioned before, I'm not one who gets overly attached to my stuff. If it's no longer serving a purpose, getting used on a regular basis, off it goes to a thrift store, in hopes of finding a better home. Especially since we've reached the stage now where we've accumulated way too much stuff, and we're downsizing to a much smaller space.

During the final years of her life, Mom just about drove me crazy over stuff. Every time I went to see her, she had a big pile of it waiting, and insisted that I take it with me. I tried to fight it at first, but later decided that it was much easier just to take it all and say thank you. It made her so very happy, and if it mostly got donated the minute I got home, she would never know, since she was beyond being able to travel to Wimberley.

One thing, though, did not get donated. It was the most beautiful antique, cut glass, cruet with stopper. Simple but elegant. I've kept it out on my counter ever since, filled with red wine vinegar, and it puts a smile on my face each time I see it. Or at least, it did until last night, when I was giving my sparkly-clean kitchen one final swipe, and some how managed to knock it over, shattering it beyond repair. That one really hurt, and it's probably gonna hurt for some time to come. Each time I start to mix a vinaigrette for our dinner salad, I will reach for that empty spot, and feel a pang of loss. So, so sorry, Mom.
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Reviewed by juragan asem
Published :
Rating : 4.5