Every time I open my kitchen cabinets, they mock me. Taunting me with memories. Sitting there so smugly, forcing me to remember. Remember all the meals we had together, the talks we had over them. But most of all, every time I look at one or worse use one, I am brought back to the day we registered for our wedding. We both wanted a different set. Bry wanted a brighter pattern (it was LOUD) and I wanted a simple understated set (aka plain white). We compromised and agreed on the ones that now mock me. Every time I open those cabinets, I think of how great we were at marriage. How we talked things through, came up with a compromise we were both happy with, but if we couldn't compromise, we settled things with Rock, Paper, Scissors. Every time I open the cabinets, they remind me of who I became with Bryan. We didn't get the plain white boring set I wanted because Bryan brought color into my life, he encouraged me to take chances. And every time I open those cabinets, they mock me with what I have lost. Who knew dishes could be so menacing, so mean, so emotion producing. I am starting to hate them, with a passion.
So I came up with a brilliant plan, if I do say so myself. I am going to break those dishes into pieces. I can picture myself letting go of all the anger, throwing each dish, hearing the shatter. And it makes me smile. A real smile. (I can hear the neighbors now, "Hello, is this the police? Yes, I believe the widow has really lost it! She's breaking dishes in her backyard!!") I just hope I get either an officer with a sense of humor, or one I know who will let it go!
And then after those menacing objects are a pile of pieces. I am going to have my friends over, my friends who have been helping me pick up my pieces, and we are going to make a mosaic piece. I can picture the finished project, and it makes me smile too. Because things can be just as beautiful, even once they are broken and put back together. Not the same, but still beautiful.
That will teach the dishes for mocking me. Hopefully, it will be a lesson for the rest of the house.