WHAT WAS BROKEN

Recently I heard of the Japanese method of Kintsugi,
the art of fixing broken pieces.
Immediately came to mind a Cronin-blue tea pot
we had growing up,
one from which we drank tea when Mom,
veering away from serving a traditional supper,
made us bacon, eggs and toast instead.
I loved that tea pot.
On the front of it was a little Dutch boy and girl
facing each other, reminding us of Holland,
a city far away from our small town in West Virginia.
The tea pot sat on a metal holder above a warmer
which held a lit candle,
to keep the tea hot for the duration of the meal.
It was a special time for my sisters and me,
memory-making time with Mom.
Oh, how I coveted that tea pot!
Years down the road when I had a family of my own
Mom gave the teapot to me.
In a cramped apartment with little kitchen space
I stored it with various glassware
on metal shelving in the living room.
It sat there in its Cronin-blue glory until one fateful day
my husband's buddies came over,
got a little too drunk and a fight ensued.
As if in slow motion I can still see his friend staggering
from a shove and crashing into the shelving,
my beloved tea pot teetering then falling and breaking
into several pieces on the floor.
I muttered only five words, get them out of here!
Somewhat apologetic for his friends' behavior,
he swept up the pieces and threw them away
as I sat crying on the back-porch glider.
If only I'd known then about Kintsugi,
I might still have my teapot today,
not worse for wear but made more beautiful,
each jagged piece cemented in glittering gold.
 
Betty Bleen (C) 2018
www.toocutetoboop.com