Better Because of Our Mornings Together …

And my heart SUNK … as the reality of the situation landed in my awareness.  Something must have happened, out of obvious sight, in the dark of the process. I clearly underestimated the potential hazards inherent within the ‘normal wash’ cycle of my built-in Whirlpool.

Well okay … that’s not entirely true.  I must admit to losing the odd wine glass, but I’ve always known full well that I was taking a calculated risk when placing my stemware into that unsupervised environment!  However, I had absolutely no ‘fragility’ concerns in this particular case. Not. Even. One.


I’m scratching my head to comprehend how it even happened. Was it a relentless barrage … or … was it simply one nasty, defining moment? I’ll never know, but what is done is done. And most unfortunately, our mornings together are now reduced to memories.

That said, I don’t even specifically recall the last occasion we greeted the day together.  I might have lingered over it just a little longer if I knew it would be our last.  But, then again, our early A.M. trysts were always good. Yes. Over the years, we’ve shared countless hours of quiet, reflective, nourishing mornings together … sip to sip to sip to sip.

grams-mug-2

I know. I know. I know ….

It does not escape me that it was “just a mug.”  BUT… that mug was one of my favorites.  Not only because of the heartwarming messages handwritten upon it, but because I am a very pragmatic individual and that mug was so darn functional.  It eliminated any confusion about whose mug was whose on the mornings when Papa was home.  In addition to that, it was also the perfect size. There was no fiddle farting around to get the ratio just right: one good slosh of 18% cream + two packets of Splenda = the perfect proportions to please my palate!  Yes. Pure deliciousness! Every. Single. Time. My anxiously oriented mind just loves that kind of certainty … 🙂

As well, I always appreciated how that mug’s smooth, white, glossy handle slid so comfortably into my grip. I have quite a small hand and many mugs tend to tip over when I try to hold them with one hand.  But, not this one! It was a perfect fit. Good job that“Santa” tucked this gem into my Christmas stocking in 2011 …

And, this unfortunate occurrence means that Papa’s mug will now be relegated to the ranks of mismatched and alone in our cupboard. And, I am left to warily wonder whether his mug should now be handled with more care … i.e. washed by hand.

Well, all I tell you in that regard is this: Papa’s mug remained at risk for quite some time because although some extra TLC was entirely possible, it was not particularly probable in our house.  May I remind you of my lack of effort with the wine glasses … 

grams-mug-3

I expect, however, that as I attempt to temper my regret by stealing moments using Papa’s mug instead … my heart will be re-filled with fondest recollections of it’s mate. No doubt about it: Our sorrows are so inextricably entwined with our joys. As Kahlil Gibran so sagely suggests:

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”

Absolutely.  And so, of course, I seriously considered glue. My hubby assured me it would do the trick.  And I was briefly enthused by his solid conviction, but then my highly kindled amygdala promptly derailed those hopes by emphatically declaring that it would be far too precarious. When comes to scalding hot coffee … it’s better to err on the side of caution !!  And so, there would be no gluing.

And with that decision, my rational mind reminded me that there is no point arguing with reality.  There comes a time when there is nothing left to do but accept an unfavorable and ugly outcome … just as graciously as humanly possible. Yes. One of life’s hardest lessons is learning how to make peace with our losses.  And so, in my effort to do that, I just needed to jot down these words  … to overtly honor that many of my mornings were made better because I got to greet them with that mug.  And for that I am grateful.

With both a smile and tear for that which has been my delight …  ❤ Karen ❤

P.S. Papa’s mug is much less at risk now. We got a new dishwasher.  It even has slots for wine glasses. Life is good.

 

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