shattered crystalPosted: October 15, 2012
At about fifteen each of us heard, “At eighteen you are out of the house”. It wasn’t cruel, it was just the way it was and at eighteen I was off. I never went to college, instead I borrowed $1,500 dollars for a year of computer school and went to the city.
I went to school, worked most evenings at a department store and hooked up with a rugby team who became my tribe. I graduated and found work for an IT firm as a tape librarian at $2.50 per hour. I stayed there 22 years.
For those first few years things were tight but at the end of the month I always had just a little left. Each month I would go out and buy a single Waterford Crystal cut glass piece of stemware. Sometimes only a cordial glass was in the budget and sometimes a champagne flute. But each month I tried to add one.
The house was pretty wild with the three of us. And if I was quiet and bookish, they more than made up for it, and I might have once or twice joined in the reveling. I kept the glasses on the floor in my closet, a safe little secret. One evening as I lounged on the bed my girlfriend put something in the closet and knocked a hanger free. It tumbled down ringing pure and clear as crystal shattered.
Wrapped up in newsprint like crystal mummies boxed and forgotten they hid in safety. But now, what value in beauty closeted away? Instead they are out, and used. Not too often for they are leaded, but if you someday stop by you can enjoy your ice water in a crystal tumbler. And if you break it? Well, they are made to be used just we are made to live.