Crying Over Broken Glass

I broke my punch bowl.

I don't usually get bothered by the breaking of material possessions.  After all they are replaceable.  

However, today, when I was cleaning out our "storage" area and I nonchalantly dropped a box about a foot off the ground I heard the sound of breaking glass.  What I had wrongly assumed was the box was full of linens or such.  What I read with a quick glance to the side of the box were the large words "PUNCH BOWL" written in clear marker and directly facing me.  

Of course I looked inside and at first glance it seemed like a large chip out of the rim of the bowl, but in fact on the second glance it was obvious the bowl was in many pieces.  I shut the lid and tried to continue my purge of several large containers of clothes that have been in storage for a year.  To no avail I couldn't keep going.  I was upset.  In one stupid second I had carelessly disposed of one of my sentimental possessions. 

Now I had thought of selling my punch bowl before I moved.  It is/was a beautiful American Fostoria bowl that had been my grandmothers.  It was valued at over $300.  Not an exorbitant figure, but not an item I would replace at that cost.  Nevertheless, I had decided to keep the bowl with some persuasion by my children who had become accustomed to seeing it at special family occasions, parties, and weddings.  

I packed it carefully and brought it to Colorado.  I even used it once since our arrival.  The problem was, when I put it back in the box and sat it in the storage room, I didn't repack it.  

I think today the feelings of sadness are not  for the punch bowl alone....although I hate to waste $300...the feelings are based on the symbolism of letting go of my grandmother, mother, the past parties with friends and the future memories that could be created.  The sadness is for the loss of friends that gathered around that punch bowl many times in Iowa.  Everyone I knew knew that punch bowl and the fun it symbolized. 

Today I am crying over broken glass.