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Illumination

Sunday evening I was in the midst of one of my rare cleaning frenzies, and I was trying to finish up the vacuuming before I headed off to work.

I my haste, I got caught up in the cord of the antique brass standing lamp in the living room and it wobbled hesitantly, then decided to go on ahead and topple over as I watched ... It crashed down and I had that suspended in a moment hope that the thick translucent hobnail glass shade would prove to be strong and sturdy and by some miracle not break.

No such luck.

I numbly vacuumed up the gleaming white shards with tears in my eyes ... Then I carefully unscrewed the base and quietly put the lamp in the closet.

We bought it on a whim - not even knowing if it was in working order - at one of the first auctions we attended together. Back when the world was fresh and new, and we were fresh and new, and time and pain and disillusionment had not yet taken their toll on us ...

It turned out that when we got it home, it didn't work. At first. But he spent a few days concentrating on the matter, figuring out why, and he fixed it. And I spent an afternoon polishing its every crevice until I could see my face reflected in its shining base. And it went on working beautifully for years.

Until the other night. When it toppled to the floor and it crashed. And it shattered.

M

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