Several days ago this happened in my living room. My ceramic cat was accidentally knocked off the table where she resides and her front paw broke off. “One more thing broken…” was my first thought. As I have worked on my little Cloth in Common “Disunity” quilt these last weeks, I have been pondering how things break, how it affects us, how we mend or not, those broken things and if once broken is anything ever truly the same again? My thoughts were of issues much larger than a broken piece of pottery. So much seems broken in our world and especially in our country right now–broken promises, broken laws, broken trust, and it seems we are being led by broken people, missing the essential parts like wisdom and compassion, that are what true leaders need and use daily.
A broken object, if loved, seems a fitting metaphor for the brokenness of our systems and societal order. That cat was more than just decor. There was once a wonderful little shop down the road from my house. It was along the side of a busy road and had a dodgy parking area that was tricky, at best, to get in and out of, and was run by an older woman with wild hair and tattooed lip liner who was always there. She had no other employees. This unassuming little shop, in probably the worst possible location, held treasures that spoke directly to me and my friend Muriel. My friend would come to visit from another town and we always paid a visit to our favorite little shop. I bought bright, woven kitchen towels, and gifts for a baby and a carved wooden angel from Mexico and more. No other store had the things this shop had, most from places far away. The lady with the hair could tell you the provenance of each item and seemed personally invested in each piece. For years we visited her and, sadly, rarely encountered another customer in her tiny shop. She was fun to visit with and she always seemed happy to see us. Then one day driving past, I saw her “Going out of business” sign. I called Muriel in a panic and we planned a visit. I had admired the cat from China earlier, but it was a little pricy for a frivolous purchase and I had left it behind. As we drove to the shop for the last time I wondered if the cat was still there. It was.”This one is special” said the lady as she wrapped the cat in sheets of tissue for me. This was a long time ago, but the cat reminds me of the shop, the woman whose labor of love it was, and good times with my friend, Muriel. The cat makes me smile.
It was a pretty clean break and I was able to glue the paw back. A very tiny chip is still missing, but the cat is almost as good as new. I drove past the old location of the shop this week. The building is now a shady-looking cannabis dispensary. It, too, seems broken, with no hope of restoring what once was. Some things can be mended, some cannot.
