The Crystal Glass Disaster
When unearthing heirlooms leads to family lore
When we lived in Connecticut, the china and crystal lived in special glass-fronted corner cabinets in our dining room. They were visible and accessible, but clearly meant only for special occasions. We probably used them to toast my engagement and on Christmas Eve and Thanksgiving. They made the move along with my parents to California 28 years ago and I’m not sure we’ve used them since. So this year I decided to break them out.
In order to get to the fancy crystal champagne glasses out for Christmas Eve, I had to dig deep. I mean really deep.
I had to dig deep. In the dining room hutch, there were 8 heavy duty boxes tightly closed up with packing tape and labelled (bless my organized mother) “wine”, “champagne”, “shots?”, and “demitasse” - I’m still not sure what that means exactly but I think it’s espresso?
Of course, I am doing this Christmas Eve around 4 pm as we are also trying to get to church for the 5:30 children’s service.
Inside the box labelled “champagne” there are, as promised, 8 (I had always thought they were Waterford but actually turned out to be Tiffany’s - why this matters in a minute) champagne coupe glasses individually bubble wrapped and aggressively taped up. They had to make it across the country, after all. I opened them and polished them (no time to wash but they looked clean enough after all the years in storage!). When we got home from church we toasted Christmas Eve together. It was a lovely and festive evening with my parents, husband, and daughters. Maybe there were a few extra pours, but what the heck? We were enjoying the fancy crystal.
At some point during the evening, my dad says to my mom “remember what happened with our wedding glasses the night of that party?” My mom apparently has no recollection. He shares a story I now know I’ve heard before. Early in their marriage at one of their Upper East Side dinner parties, after carefully hand washing the champagne glasses they were sitting, drying on a towel on the counter. Someone - we’ll never know who - reached into the cabinet above to get down a heavy serving dish (dramatic pause), and yes, it dropped onto the drying glasses sending Waterford cut crystal shards all over the kitchen. I am sure this caused significant expense and heartbreak and probably some choice words. (Come to think of it, perhaps this is why they don’t get used that often.)
New crystal - Tiffany’s this time - was eventually purchased and we were never the wiser. They are sparkly, delicate and beautiful and it’s fun to have something to make certain dinners special.
At any point in life, shouldn’t we be using and enjoying our special things all the time?
I mean, why not?
But this story hits home with me right now for different reasons. What if we hadn't opened these boxes and used the glasses with my parents this year? Maybe they would have stayed packed up for another five years. Maybe we wouldn’t have heard the history and anecdotes that bring these items to life and tell the stories of a life associated with them. For many of us, well, at least for me, it’s not the dollar value but the stories and the connection to the past that make these items meaningful.
It’s encouragement to continue the “decluttering journey” in a way that’s a little bit fun and brings stories to life. Because without the stories, they are just glasses.
Love the closing of this- true that there are stories attached to almost everything - who knew?