I met Dorothy over 30 years ago. Wonderful lady, my friend's mother. Dorothy was fun, interesting and my friend. She gave me a beautiful, delicate teacup. That teacup was displayed in my home for the next 30+ years. A few months ago I received the call that the teacup had been broken while I wasn't home. "It's ok" I told the apologetic caller. I had enjoyed the teacup for many years, I knew I had been fortunate. When I got home I stacked the pieces, I just couldn't throw them away. I hadn't seen Dorothy in several years, I knew she hadn't been well. But she was still my friend, and the teacup still dear to me. Well, here is the eerie part. A bit of time passed and I ran into an older lady friend and she said "you know we lost Dorothy". No, I didn't know. Her passing very closely coincided with the breaking of the teacup. Now, I am not one to look for meaning in every event, but this was funny to me. A little eerie. I felt like it had been my goodbye from Dorothy. Recently when I was cleaning house I once again dusted the broken teacup, and thought I should throw it away. I decided to paint the pieces. This is my farewell to Dorothy. Maybe now I will let the broken pieces go, maybe.
Betty
Thank you for sharing in this little slice of my life
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