Dear T,
Bought a cut-glass pitcher for us today at the thrift store. Six dollars! Thought it would make us feel a little elegant, with the light streaming through, reflecting off our turquoise table. No bottom-feeders living here!
I imagined our fresh-brewed iced-tea or sparkly lemonade pouring from the spout. I swear I heard the ice clinking against the inside, heard us laughing about the dirty lyrics to your music, taking turns, turning the handle for refills.
I brought the pitcher home, started to wash it in hot, hot, sudsy water. Then I saw it! The giant chip out of the spout, with a crack echoing on down. How could I have missed that, T? Did I want the bargain so bad, that I made believe it was part of the ruffled rim? Did I just look the other way and pretend not to notice? Well, I guess it wouldn't be the first time that I did that.
I know it was silly to think that I could lift our spirits with a second-hand pitcher. But, I tried; I'll keep on trying. For you T, always for you.
Love,
Mom
