“Am I really crying over a mug?” I asked myself.
I’ve been noticing how its message has been fading, its picture becoming blurry. Oh but I love this one! I use it every day. It holds the perfect amount of coffee and later, water. I wrap my often chilled hands around it as I soak in the steam. It’s handle is strong, not flimsy.
And it’s message… I just adore. “Seize the Day”.
I’ve started to search the internet for a replacement. There is not one!
And the story… my best friend came to visit from states away. It was two weeks after moving into a new apartment, the first one I had by myself. It was also a week or so after a very tough breakup. Also a first.
We went to see Newsies premiere at the local playhouse, years before its Broadway run! As we flipped through our Playbills, I stopped, “Oh my God. I know him!” One of the actors was the husband of my high school theatre director.
During intermission, we breezed by the concession stand and I commented how great that mug was.
I use this mug every day. I don’t even know why I own others.
The letters are worn, from holding, from love. But from not letting go. I love cupping my hands around it.
It’s big at the top, smaller on the bottom. It has a great message. It has a story. It has my history of this place, that first apartment on my own.
And yet, it’s worn. It’s becoming old and grey. Dingy. Outgrown.
I’m not sure what I will do with the mug. Can I love it in this state? For all it’s been through with me?
Regardless, I will seize the greater opportunity for change.