Recently, a pyrex half-pint jug that once belonged to my Grandmother broke. We had used it almost every day for decades and perhaps it was just worn out. I liked it because it had imperial measurements, which I work in for cooking and baking. Nothing lasts forever and I was fond of it because it was a connection back to my Nan.
Early the next morning, I woke up with these words in my head. I wrote them down and went back to sleep:
From our past
And it’s so hard
To let go.
I’m learning to let go.