broken glass and poison ivy killer

My father always used to say (when the inevitable glass shattered on the floor): “Better a broken glass than a broken heart.” Apparently this was a phrase his mother always used to say to him when something broke but there is a particular instance of its use that I will never forget. I was about 11 and talking to a friend (quite unmindfully no doubt) on a corded phone while walking around the corner of the dining room table. On the table stood a beautiful engraved glass vase that was a recent 25th anniversary present (from my father’s sister, as I recall). As I made my way around the table, the cord traversed across the top and hit the vase, which predictably fell and cracked into pieces with water and flowers spilling out and dripping onto the floor. My father was right there when it happened and while I remember a slight grimace on his face, he paused for a moment and then slowly said, “Better a broken glass than a broken heart.” I felt in that instant both tremendous remorse for my negligence and also tremendous gratitude for his forbearance.

In a similar vein, a few years later my dad left me in charge of his beloved rose garden while he was off traveling. He had gone through all the care procedures with me before departure and, self-absorbed teenager that I was, I completely forgot about my chore until the very last weekend. I quickly ran to get what I thought was the fertilizer sprayer and went out into the garden. When my dad returned a few days later his roses were all but completely dead… as it turned out I had mistakenly grabbed the container filled with poison ivy killer instead. While he didn’t say “better a poisoned rose than a poisoned heart”, his lack of admonishment was keenly felt. I then watched him over the ensuing weeks as he quietly tended and resurrected his garden.

Today in my household, if something breaks or is burned or ruined or obliterated in any way it is an unspoken rule that the first words out of anyone’s mouth are “better a (adjective of destruction) (object) than a (same adjective of destruction) heart.”

Rebecca (daughter)