I have a broken ruby red crystal little pitcher that used to belong to my parents. It was the smallest one of a set of three. When I was a little girl, I used to love staring at the three that represented Father, Mother and me (my younger sister Cynthia was missing, since they were just a trio!). One day, I must have been 5 years old, I climbed on a chair and tried to grab one, and it fell and broke into smithereens. So then there were two.
Fast forward to when I was in my early 20s. I moved to Philadelphia, and my Mother gave me the littlest pitcher to take to my new home, because she knew of my sentimental attachment to that little jug.
Life happened, and I carried that little pitcher wherever I went, until one day someone dropped it and it shattered in 4 pieces or so. I was heartbroken. I identified with that little broken crystal flask. It carried so many memories of where I had been and where I was. For some reason, I saved the crystal shards in a box. I couldn’t bear to throw them out.
One day, about three years ago, I came across the Japanese art of “kintsugi”, a technique using gold and lacquer that enhances the flaws of the damaged object and, as the Smithsonian Institute says, “not only accepts but highlights the life of the object.”
It dawned on me that I could learn to restore the broken little pitcher. Somewhere at home I have the gold and the lacquer that I bought to do it. I hope to spend some time mending this memento that represents so many significant stages in my life. It will be one of my most cherished possessions and emblematic of what it was and what it will become: a most beautifully rebuilt little pitcher and stronger than it ever was.
Come to think of it, isn’t “kintsugi” a metaphor for life?
Dum Spiro Spero 