My grandmother owns crystal bowls that have been passed down to her from her grandmother. Being a family with Jewish heritage in Austria, every single piece of family history we own is basically a treasure in itself.
I was already an adult when she allowed me to take one of them home with me, of course only after I swore several oaths to keep it safe. I can go months and years without breaking a single dish, but lo and behold, it takes two weeks and a split second of not paying attention, and suddenly that crystal bowl, that’s worth more to my grandmother than the entire rest of her furniture, goes flying and shatters into a million pieces. I swear I watched for what felt like an hour as that thing dropped, turned around itself and finally crashed in a spectacular impact. Anyway, it’s completely beyond repair, and I’m freaking out because my grandmother will murder me. Only, she will not, because even worse, she’s going to be fucking heartbroken and so, so disappointed with me she won’t even find it within herself to murder me.
But, you gotta do what you gotta do - not being able to face her while confessing, I call her, in tears, apologizing a hundred times before she finally goes: “Gigi, calm down now, what happened??”
“*sobbing* I- I broke your grandma’s bohooohooowl -”
And my grandmother, bless that woman, starts laughing hysterically. She’s laughing so much I think, I must have broken her, that’s it, she’s lost her marbles now and it’s my fault, until she wheezes out: “Gigi that bowl survived two world wars and the Nazis but not a month in your kitchen!” and of course I fucking lost it too at that point. That’s how I learned, that in the end, it’s really all about perspective.
Now I’m a step-mum myself and my go to reaction whenever I hear something break is to shrug and say ‘Well, it had a good run’ and then I go fetch a broom and we’ll clean up because if my grandma could laugh off a 100 year old crystal dish, I can laugh off an IKEA mug lmao
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