Go Ahead,Use the Good ChinaMary Ann Kirby– 46–
Why do we insist on saving things for special occasions?Let me re-phrase that.Why do “I” insist on doing it?Twenty years ago, when my husband and I werein the process of getting married, the expectation ofnewly engaged couples was to register for finechina and fancy crystal in order to receive them aswedding gifts. In hindsight, there were certainlymore practical gifts for which we could haveregistered. We barely had enough cabinet space toaccommodate our mismatched combined everydaydishes and assorted plastic “to-go” cups.Friends and family were generous in celebratingour union with dinner plates and salad plates andbowls and cups and saucers–all gilded and goldrimmed–and none, dishwasher safe.When we built a home a decade later, weboxed up all our gifted tableware–some still yetto be unwrapped from its original gift packaging–and we moved it to its new address. To this day,while yet another ten years has passed, theyremain mere articles of decoration–or hidden,entirely, in a seldom-used china cabinet.My china has become a metaphor for my life.What am I saving it for?It has always been my experience that thepurpose of fancy dinnerware is to mark “special”occasions. I’ve realized, though, as I’ve gottenolder, that my definition of “special” has changed.My son is getting older. My husband travelsconstantly for work. Special occasions in ourhousehold have become the everyday ones. Thedays when my husband and son and I can sit downtogether at the same table and eat and laugh andtalk, are special. The days when we celebrate simplethings like getting our driver’s license, a win on thebaseball field, or an award at school–are all special.And our clock is ticking . . .Oftentimes, our neighborhood friends willcome to our house and gather around the kitchenisland and eat and drink and howl laughing whilesharing stories of their jobs and their children andtheir lives–and those times are special. And thefact that they want to be there is special.So when I consider that our special occasionsare the ones that involve the people I love themost engaging in the things that make me themost happy–it makes me wish I had used thatchina more often.If you’re still reading this, stay with me...What if we actually started to “use the goodchina” every day? What if we used it until everygilded edge on every piece had been worn downto just a faint brassy haze? If we are saving our verybest, for the very best, when will that be if not now?At nearly 53-years old, I find myself in atransition–a bit of a “new season.” And I’m noteven sure what triggered it. Maybe preparing towrite this story prompted it as I’ve been thinkingabout it for quite some time. But the truth is, I’dgotten lazy. And because my family is moving atwarp speed, most often in completely oppositedirections, I found myself being alone more oftenthan not.My day-to-day routine hadn’t required mucheffort beyond getting up, brushing my teeth, pilingmy hair on top of my head, and taking my son toschool–most often in my pajamas. And becauseI work from home, I can stay in my pajamas fora good part of the day, and usually do.But a year or two ago, I started noticing thatI was having a hard time remembering things–simple things like being able to recall someone’sname or a word that should have, otherwise,come easily. I would go to the grocery store andit would occur to me, somewhere around thecereal aisle, that I had absolutely no idea whereI’d parked my car.So there I’d be, in a baggy sweatshirt thatcovers my back-side, wearing yoga pants as pants,without a stitch of make-up on my face, hair piledhigh up on my head, standing on aisle eleven andwondering not only where I had parked my car–but what had become of me? When did I lose, me?It was a defining moment.I had quit trying. And as a result, it seemed mybrain had quit trying, too.I wasn’t “using the good china.”Saving things and reserving the effort for that“special something” or that “perfect moment” iscrazy. None of us know what’s going to happentomorrow. And we certainly shouldn’t take ourmoments for granted–because we never knowwhen we’ll be out of them.So this new “season” I’ve entered is actuallya season of re-awakening. Today is my specialoccasion.What if we showed up for ourselves every day?What if we showed up for the people we careabout most and made the most of every singleopportunity? What if we pulled out the “goodchina,” showed it off, and felt good doing it?Literally and metaphorically.When it comes to thankfulness, I can think ofno greater way of expressing it than by using thegood stuff. As they say, wake up, dress up, andshow up, right? I’m still working on it. But now,while I may still wear my yoga pants as pants,don’t be surprised if you see me doing mygrocery shopping wearing bright red lipstick, too.After all, I’m being intentional about celebratingtoday.As hard as it is for me to admit, and in thegrand scheme of things, today may actually be oneof the relatively few, if not only one, I have left.Therefore, it’s imperative that I give it all I’ve got.So go ahead. Use the good china. Life’s tooshort not to. Turn the ordinary into somethingextraordinary, today. l– 47–