fine china

i called on the way over, trying to decipher the streets. she said "i have a red crystal goblet for you, and we'll be having pizza, on my fine china of course". i said "well of course miss amy, and that's why i love you". and it is. her life is about the special things. she's always talking about serving ice cream to her boys in fun little dishes, or thanksgiving dinner with friends on porcelain. it doesn't have to be an event. in fact when robbie was telling a very intricate story and knocked over his green crystal goblet it was no big deal. most parents would suck in a gallon of air, and then scold the 8 year old about flailing arms at the table, but not amy. because it's meant to be used, and sometimes chips happen, but those chips always have the best stories later.

she's not one to tip toe around life, she dives in face first and prays to God on the way down that someone remembered to fill up the pool. her relationships aren't safe, she's all in. you could understand then, why amy could sit every morning with her mother and enjoy a cup of coffee, or why her favorite time of the day is at 5am when her husband wakes up and they have those few moments alone. and you can understand that when her father, the person she looks up to most, was diagnosed with cancer last year that precious relationship suddenly felt like it was being shattered into a million pieces. but still she prays for the best and hopes he will come by and sit on her front porch every evening. sometimes words are spoken but usually "hi dad" is all that needs to be said.

she doesn't play it safe; her china, her feelings, her heart were unpacked long ago and have been shared with whomever stops by for a gourmet feast or pizza served from a box. every so often things get chipped, but how much better to have a couple of chips than to never experience anything special.