
My Dad gave me this vase, probably 25 years ago. It was unusual for him to give me a gift, he usually gave me money, thought it was better for me to choose what I wanted. So this was a real treasure, not because I loved it, it's really nice but not really my style, but because he liked it enough to buy it for me. One night in 2001 my twins were playing a game in the dark and knocked it over and broke the lip, see the cracked bits glued back in place. They panicked, totally thought I would go nuts, I didn't!! and made up a really fantastic story about how it happened, hoping that laughter would ease the pain. It did. So now my flawed vase, no longer perfect is one of my only remaining gifts from my dad. Is it any less precious or treasured because of the flaw, no way, I think maybe it is even more special, now it has new stories attached to it. It still reminds me of dad everytime I see it and I will keep it forever, flawed and all. Just like me really, well like all of us, broken in places, mended as best we can but still loved and special to someone, hopefully to many.