The Broken Cup,,,, posted 6/24/2008 11:58:43 PM | 14 kudos what's this?     report abuse tagged: sons, cups

bardnsage

My son came to me this evening, and announced he had some bad news for me. Of course, for this bright, independent, yet recluse of a teenage boy to come to me, it must be bad. I closed the lap top, mid post, and pushed him a chair.

“Shoot”, I told him. Calm and cool on the outside, but the inside was turning flips. Report cards have been out, all A’s,,,,, he’s not yet driving, so not the car,,,,,

He started with, “I’m real sorry. It was just an accident. I wasn’t being careless.”

OK,,,, insides going from flips, to full nude gainer’s off the 5 meter platform, with 2 twists.

He slowly extended his hand that I had not noticed before. In it were the remains of my coffee cup. Seems he dropped it in the sink when he was doing the dishes.

I tried not to make any comment, because I didn’t understand why he was so freaked out over a broken mug. Then he broke my heart, just as sure as he had broken the mug. Purely by accident, while trying to do the right thing.

“Dad, I know this is your favorite cup, and I’m sorry.” he said.

“What makes you think it’s my favorite.”

“It’s the one you always use. Every morning, you take this one out of the dishwasher, and you keep it all day. Even when the preacher comes over, you gave him coffee in the good dishes, but you use this one. When I get up in the morning and you are not here, I can see your cup by the sink, with that little bit of coffee left in it, and I know you have already left for work. When I don’t see it, I know you never came home. When I wash the dishes at night, it’s always right there. When I have to put it in the cabinet in the morning, it’s because you weren’t here. It sits right in the spot over the coffee pot, the only cup in that cabinet. It makes me feel good to see it on the counter, because it means you are home, and I always think of you when I do see it. That’s how I know it’s your favorite cup.”

I just sat there. I was stunned that the great brooding teen, the video hermit, the master of domestic camouflage, had even stopped long enough to recognize that he had broken the cup, nevertheless to put any kind of high level thinking on it. I was also full of regret, and second thoughts about all the times he had to put that cup in the cabinet.

“Don’t worry son. I’ll fix it.”

“Dad, you can’t fix this. It’s busted into a million pieces.”

“Dad’s can do anything we put our mind to. If I can't fix it, I’ll pick out a new cup tomorrow.”

I thanked my son for being honest, and telling me the truth. Then I told him it was OK that the cup was broken, because it was just a cup, and having a son like him was worth every cup in the house. He left the cup, and went back up stairs to finish the dishes.

I looked at the broken cup. It was just an old company cup, with the name of a company that I worked for a long time ago. I got a whole case of them back in the day, because the name of the company was also the name of the town where we live. Now, it was just a broken mess of white ceramic. Incapable of performing its intended task, but now, it is my favorite cup. It is a testament to the mind of teenager, when they let their guard down. It is hope for the future, and a witness that all the lessons taught before were not in vain.

I pulled the pieces together, and put them into a Crown Royal bag. I pulled the strings tight, I put the bag into my old wooden toolbox. It was a hand me down from my grandfather, built during the depression, when you didn’t waste your pay on fancy red boxes with sliding drawers.

It was his chest of tools that fed his family. Now, it’s my treasure chest of memories. I keep things near and dear to my heart there. To others they may be junk, but to me they are my secret memories, that no one can tarnish or destroy. The newest addition is the broken cup. It will mean nothing to anyone else, except me, and maybe him.

Then I went over to the shelf on the far side of the bunker, and rifled through a stack of boxes. Sure enough, about half way through, I found the other 23 cups, just like the first one, in the case I had bought so many years ago. I went upstairs and put one in the dishwasher, and it will be on the counter in the morning. He doesn’t need to know how I fixed it, because even for a teenager, mystery around the power of Dad is a good thing. Dad’s can do anything we put our minds to, and nothing can stop us when we put our heart in it too.

I love you son.

Copy & paste to friend: (Click inside box; Ctrl + C to copy; Ctrl + V to paste)

Blogs by bardnsage: I got my dancing shoes on. I felt the rush, as I baked up a Smurf. PART 2 I felt the rush, as I baked up a Smurf. PART 1 - continued....Neighbors, and the token low life Neighbors, and the token low life - continued.... Neighbors, and the token low life. Just a flush of the mental toilet, so we can start fresh. Parental Responsibilty - new angle The answer for Lust,,,,,, Tribute to 4501 - The Broken Cup - MAJOR OWNAGE. The Broken Cup,,,, Was I wrong,,,,,,, DOWNTOWN CHICK.... The Job - Part 2 of 2 - The descision,,,, The job - Part one of two - Friday night tourture.... SIMPLE DRIVING TEST - self administered,,,,, Near Death Experience - 5 minutes ago Visit to the "HOME PLACE". What I learned from a Dad in Logan, West Virgina How's that working for you? Did I get the wrong date.....or what..... I'm no writer,,,,, right? The cinder...... Reoccuring dreams,,,,