Glass Dreams

Carefully wrapping the water glasses and small juice glasses, I cannot remember when I came to own them or from where they came.  Why do I bother, I ask myself? Why the care, why another box to be carried and stored and hopefully, eventually unwrapped and put away.  Nothing special about them, at an auction or flea market the whole box might be valued at a few dollars.  The glasses have lovely lines and feel good in the hand, but to anyone other than me they would likely be cabinet clutter, something to give away in a housecleaning frenzy some day. 

It occurs to me that the majority of things that I am wrapping and moving and storing have meaning only to me.  If something happened and I left this earth tomorrow, my treasures that I am packaging and paying dearly to move would only be a burden to others, with little to no value either emotionally or monetarily.  

Why bother then?  Is it merely the need to be surrounded with something familiar once I land in my new-to-me home? No, I think it is more.  Attached to these small items are not only memories, but also dreams for the future. Or perhaps, fantasies. Of friends dropping in for visiting and dinner. Conversation and playing with puppies. Of dinners with a man who touches my heart, the glasses softly shining in candle light, the conversation carrying on through warmth, curiosity and laughter until the candles and the night are small.  

So it is not glassware that I am wrapping and preserving, it is my hopes and dreams and desires.  And with care and luck, these will be unwrapped and enjoyed.  Soon.