Wednesday, February 7, 2018

This Plate Has a Story...

My love of vintage dates back to childhood. Every Saturday we’d make the 45-minute drive into Dallas to visit my grandparents, including my grandmother, Bobbie June. From an early age, her drawers of handmade quilts and aprons, along with her vast collection of porcelain dolls fascinated me. Even the musty smell drew me in and evoked curiosity. I’d daydream about an item’s story and journey still to come.  

I started building my own collection of antiques in 2013. Since I can’t have all the things, I tend to buy small items like vintage plates. I have at least one from every vintage shop I’ve visited. And thus, I found myself in late December at a McKinney antique store scouring the place for the perfect plate. I landed on two. 

Henley immediately gravitated to one and insisted on carrying “her” plate around the store. My husband was in full on panic mode, but my take was the worst thing that can happen is she drops it. Well, folks, she dropped it. When she did, it didn’t just break - it shattered, along with her spirit. She was distraught. But, it was an accident.  

In that moment, it felt important to let her know it was an accident and to help her. We sat on the floor together picking up the pieces. Over and over again, I said, “It’s okay, we can fix it together”. We talked about how we could glue the pieces back together like a puzzle and even use glitter hot glue! We hugged. Her cries moved to whimpers, and I said, “There’s nothing we can’t fix together”. I meant it.  

And we did it. We put the plate back together. That moment was more special than having a pretty plate for her kitchen or my collection. And like all good antiques, this plate’s story wasn’t over.
Yesterday, we came home and I couldn’t get the front door opened. Quinn’s yelling, “You can do it”, Henley’s saying, “Mommy, strong”. Still I struggled. Why? Our sweet Gemma cat had jumped onto the shelf by the front door, knocking it and everything on it to the floor. My favorite pitcher for flowers shattered. As I’m staring at the damage, Henley comes over and says, “We can fix it together, Mommy”.  

(Cue, tears) She’s right. We can fix it together. Even if the pitcher never holds another flower, there’s nothing we can’t navigate together.  

And funny enough, that glued together vintage plate survived the whole thing. 


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