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, thatās 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, itās completely beyond repair, and Iām freaking out because my grandmother will murder me. Only, she will not, because even worse, sheās going to be fucking heartbroken and so, so disappointed with me she wonāt 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:Ā āGigi, calm down now, what happened??ā
ā*sobbing* I- I broke your grandmaās bohooohooowl -ā
And my grandmother, bless that woman, starts laughing hysterically. Sheās laughing so much I think, I must have broken her, thatās it, sheās lost her marbles now and itās my fault, until she wheezes out:Ā āGigi that bowl survived two world wars and the NazisĀ but not a month in your kitchen!ā and of course I fucking lost it too at that point. Thatās how I learned, that in the end, itās really all about perspective.Ā
Now Iām a step-mum myself and my go to reaction whenever I hear something break is to shrug and say āWell, it had a good runā and then I go fetch a broom and weāll clean up because if my grandma could laugh off a 100 year old crystal dish, I can laugh off an IKEA mug lmao
