“What use is a cup that doesn’t hold water?”

I broke a tea cup over a year ago. It was part of a set my friend gifted me for Christmas. I already had too many cups and could suffer its absence on my shelf. Yet, I kept it on my dresser in seven pieces for over a year.

January 1st arrived, as it did the previous year. This year I took the pieces of the tea cup and painted all the fractures gold, gluing the pieces together afterwards. Mending my broken tea cup didn’t occur to me last New Year’s, but it should have.

I wish it occured to me then because my broken tea cup actually had eight pieces, not seven. If I had been careful, I would have noticed. If I had been careful, the tea cup wouldn’t be broken.

Now my tea cup has an ugly chip on its rim. The break was over a year ago, the remaining piece will never return. No amount of gold paint will hide its absence. Would I have thrown away the broken cup if I knew what it was missing?

Maybe I should throw it away. Tea sets come with three cups all the time, no one would miss it.


I put the cup down on my table. Across from me is a pile of blue sea glass left on my bookcase. The sea glass is evidence of a tender moment I shared with a friend while walking the beach. I have many sea glass collections, some represent moments I no longer remember. Thumbing through the glass, I happen across the eighth piece.


My tea cup is whole.