Glass.

Every night, before bed, we collect drinking classes, plates, and bowls from the living room and start the dishwasher before going to bed.  Last night was no different.  Until it was.

2 bowls (one cereal and one potato chip) and a glass were in my hands.  The bowls were successfully placed on the counter while I maneuvered the glass in order to put it on the counter before putting them all in the washer.  Well, I should say while I attempted to maneuver the glass.  It fell.  Onto the laminate floor.

Yeah, it’s only a glass.  And it’s only a Corelle (by Corning) class at that.  It was one of those items from a wedding registry long ago.  It has seen us through 4 houses and 2 apartments.

I really don’t know if it came from Target or Corning (World Kitchen).  Yeah, we registered realizing that many of our friends might not be able to give much, and, well, knowing that if we registered for bedding or something like that from J.C. Penney’s or something, we might get pillows and not be able to purchase the matching comforter.  Just being honest.

After all, those first years were rather tight financially.  Okay, they were really tight.  But they were simpler times, it seemed.  So, we now have like 11 or 13 or some other odd number of glasses remaining.  Including a single 4oz juice glass that, really, I don’t even know which one of the ladies in my house actually use.  I know I don’t.

We have very little from our wedding gifts left.  I remember the wedding and visiting our guests at the reception rather vividly.  I don’t know why; I just do.  I’ve always been that way.  I realize that the glass is just another consumable good, stuff, and not all that important in the big picture.  And it’s not all that sentimental in and of itself, but what it represents.

As I look around my home and listen to the sounds of my wife and children talking and laughing or crying or whatever, I reflect on the many people who have dined with us in any one of our homes (houses or apartments).  Some have been friends for short periods of time, and some for several years.  Those with whom we shared our table, we also shared that glass.

It’s been a rare event over recent years that we have had friends in our home to dine.  Lately, the rare event has been the Super Bowl.  It’s coming up this weekend and we’ll have a dear friend joining us again.

There was once a time when we had friends in our house every other weekend, for no reason than to offer them a place to hang out with us and us them and each other.  Others were our guests who enjoyed simple burgers and hot dogs over our grill while we shared life in community.

What would your dinnerware remember about your time with guests and friends at your table?  What emotions have been shared, what laughter, what tears?   What stories would they tell?  What kind of memories of special occasions would they have?

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4 Responses to Glass.

  1. d$ says:

    I wish people had bought us regular glass ware. Nope. We got… China. Lots of expensive China that we’ve never used, and frankly, I am not quite sure I remember what it looks like…

    • Roman Hokie says:

      Why we didn’t register for China.

      That and my parents ended up giving me their crystal (with the last initial on it) and their China. We use it maybe twice a year…

  2. My friend’s Mom made me a quilt for high school graduation. It is about the only piece that has been in every home. The binding is starting to wear.

    It’s maker passed away in the last few years. I follow her kids on Facebook. I wonder who will fix my quilt for me, and what it is like for them when one of their quilts needs needing.

  3. Tabitha says:

    I have the very first plates I ever bought. Basic clear glass plates, bowls, and mugs. I’ve lost the mugs and a few of the plates and bowls over the past 20 years I’ve owned them. They’ve managed to stick around forever – they pre- and post-date my marriage. Every time I use them or serve others on them I’m still blown away by the fact the dishes I got at K-Mart when I moved into my very first apartment have outlasted a whole lot of life. They’ve held food while I celebrated and mourned with friends. They were what I used to learn to microwave bacon decades ago. I have china, too, but it’s in a cabinet (passed down by my godmother to me). My basic, el cheapo glass plates still truck on. (I also have dollar store wine glasses I’ve had as long.)

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