A few years ago I went on trip to a place that quickly captured my heart. The things I saw...the things I felt...the things I shared...the person I shared them with. Every moment was breathtaking. The landscape consumed all my senses. Leaving broke my heart. The one thing I took with me was this little piece of baked clay from a local shop filled with pieces created by local artists. Not exactly sure what it was, I used it as a jewelry dish in my bedroom. Since the day I returned home, every time I saw that dish my thoughts were taken back to the short time I spent in that beautiful place and the person I shared it with.
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Over time, memory of that experience began to blur. Time has a way of changing, distorting and allowing us to forget. Promises made. Promises broken.
In addition, objects brake. One day my dish dropped from my grasp. I was holding it. Then....I wasn't. It fell right out of my hands. I couldn't stop it. I watched it happen. There was nothing I could do to keep the dish whole.
As I picked up the pieces, I swore I would glue it back together. I would fix it. I could do this. As I collected the pieces off the floor it was easy to see how they fit back together. With the right glue and extra care, I was determined to have my special dish back to normal.
However, that's not what happened. I never bought the glue. The broken pieces got lost. I kept using my dish. Every day remembering the happy time and happy place when it became mine. I held on. I justified that even in this broken state, the dish still held value. It still had a purpose. Yes, it did. It still worked to some degree. I could still place my rings and necklace in the dish each night and retrieve them each morning. Although now, I wasn't reminded of that happy place. Each time I looked at my dish I thought of the broken. I felt it every single time. The thing that once reminded me of joy, now reminded me of what I once had.
And still I kept that dish.
I kept holding on. What purpose is served to remind myself every day of what once was or what was once promised? How does that move me forward?
So my beautiful dish...the color of my eyes....the clay from the land where I fell in love...purchased with a lover by my side and so many promises of a future together...this is goodbye. You said goodbye to me so very long ago. You told me your usefulness in my life was over long before I was ready to accept it.
I'm not good at this part . . . letting go. I never have been even though I have had an ample share of goodbye's. I have held to the memory of that happy time. Although this dish brought me angst and pain it also reminded me of love, joy and hope. I can't keep having the back and forth.
It's done. It's gone.
No jewelry dish. I'm letting go.