Aunt Rose’s China Set Was Smashed – Forever. Our Wedding Service for Twelve, Gone. Goodbye to Gi…

Aunt Rachels tea set bit the dust. For good.

Her wedding chinafor twelve people, mind you.
Farewell, gold rims and the little Made in Germany seals on the back of every single plateUncle Colin took a tumble from the loft and the whole box joined him in his grand descent.

Oh dear, Aunt Rachel actually looked mildly interested for a moment.
But it was porcelain!
As if that ever saved it. It took her a while to grasp the magnitude of the tragedy. Then she collapsed (with just the right amount of drama) in her armchair:
Nicholas! Quick, fetch the Rescue Remedy! She called everyone, even me from out of town, and properly mourned her youth that had shattered into a million minuscule pieces along with the plates:
Colins parents gave us that set twenty years ago. We never touched it. We were saving it for a special occasiona porcelain wedding anniversary. Heaven help us.
And whats come of it? Dads gone, Colins limping about with a sprained ankle, my blood pressures through the roof
And the real punchline? Not a soul ever once ate off those plates.
Idiots.

It got me thinking.

Why do we stash away the fancy dinnerware, the jewels, the spare joy for special occasions?
Why hoard scented candles for that one perfect evening? Tuck the diamond earrings deep in a velvet box? Bat a childs hand away from early slices of sausage? Reserve sweet words for Valentines Day onlynever daring to waste them ahead of time?
What makes today any less worthy?
Can we truly be sure there will always be time for all those things?
Nearly every phone call out of the burning towers in New York consisted of three words: I love you.
People reached for their phones, left messages. I. Love. You. Apparently, saying that was the most important to-do on Earth, after all.

Reality, if the dictionarys to be trusted, is all that exists in the presentthat little blink between what was and what might be.
Why squirrel away happiness in remote corners, shelve it in old cupboards, hide it away for one day instead of letting it warm us right now?
Theres no tomorrow guaranteedtheres only this wonderful, ridiculous, irreplaceable today. No less worthy than New Years Eve or Mothering Sunday.

So lets be quickmake peace, catch sight of the sea, play silly games with your son, squeeze your daughter till she squeaks, buy Mum another bottle of Chanel No. 5to be worn not just on Christmas, but any day she fancies.
We need to make time. Try new things. Sample the sea urchin stew or the grilled locust (or, for the faint-hearted, perhaps just a slightly dodgy kebab). Watch your favourite film and ignore the stack of washing-up.
Buy Aunt Rachel a new tea set, and throw a supper to remember.

Hurry up and say those loving wordsbefore the closing credits roll.