One of a set that once graced our table
An elegant juice glass, emerald-green and dimpled
Now cherished remnant you are part of my morning
I fill you with water to drink with my pills
Still I remember
You were one of six glasses
There were five of us
Sipping our orange juice.
Three sons eating Captain Crunch
And we parents our oatmeal
Five glasses were scattered
Or shattered, quite disappeared
Children grew up and went on their way
Parents marriage arrived at its sad end
Yet you a single green glass survived
One crinkly green glass
You shine in bright sunlight
Years later reminder of family life
And stories passed on to six grandchildren
Who go on beyond us. I wish them each a green glass.
poetrybyheart.me 
I love this!! Special and lovely
Thank you, Lynn.
Viv, this is absolutely wonderful. I, too, have one glass from my first marriage and children. A small leaded crystal cordial glass that I use for my evening small cocktail and bought in Germany so long ago. Delightful. Thank you for warming my heart.
I love sharing stories with you. Your cordial glass is a beautiful lived memory in the midst of present days. I bought my glass at a department store when I was pregnant with my second son.
Love this. I have a mish mosh of pieces with memories attached. It’s a trip back in time when I use them. A delicate English china cup I bought for my mother in Canterbury brings her back when I sip my morning coffee from it. I felt like I was with you when I read this. Delightful.
Thanks for your story about the cup you bought for your mother. It adds a lot to my life, too, to have tangible “memories” surround me.
A beautiful ode to the glass that remains.. the sole survivor of the set.. and the memories that come with it xx
Many thanks, Christy.
I can only echo what’s already been said, a crinkly green glass personified….
Thanks for your echo. 🙂
Your welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome! Couldn’t resist 🙂
🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂
Your wish is fulfilled. We have at least one in our household that will get passed on.
– a son
Lovely surprise to hear from you.-your mom ❤
There are not many everyday items with which I associate deeply as reminders of the past but this post prompted one for me. I have a cracked harvest gold juice glass that I have kept and still use to measure a half cup of liquid on those rare occasions when I actually cook something. It is the last remnant of a melamine set I purchased when I moved into my own first apartment. Thanks for digging up that otherwise buried item and memory for me.
Wonderful story about your harvest gold juice glass. I’m happy my juice glass story spoke to your juice glass memory.
Just lovely. Thank you.
I am certain that everyone who reads this will call into mind a piece of bric a brac, dish, or an ’emerald green dimpled’ glass, which has traveled along throughout their life. Mine is a big 12 inch skillet which in family lore a revered old dame chased a worthless man off with, and returned to finish frying up what she called a ‘liberty breakfast’ for her large family. I’ve eaten food from this skillet my entire life, owned the skillet since I was sixteen and while I haven’t chased anyone off with it…yet..it does contain a thousand or so memories of meals prepared and shared.
Wonderful story. Is it an iron skillet? I bought one early in my marriage in 1959 and kept it until I moved here five years ago. I bought myself a new one which was a woeful imitation so I gave it to my daughter-in- law’s next door neighbor.
Yes, heavy black Ironstone 12 inch Skillet.
So glad I finally made time to catch up on your writing. You’re on fire as we say 🙂 Absolutely enjoyed the depth in this. I think you’re writing with less inhibition and one can’t help but connect with the feelings explored. I’m inspired!
I share your observation that I am making connections by writing from a feeling level. I don’t know where my lost inhibition is coming from but I am aware that I have a new confidence about my writing. I’m glad you are inspired, my friend.