Someone special to me recently passed away. A dear friend, an irreplaceable one. He is loved; he is missed. When he passed my mom picked out this bowl as a remembrance for me.
It was mailed over the holidays and has been sitting in various spots all over my apartment. I haven’t had the heart to tuck it away into a cupboard. It’s a Fiestaware bowl, old, chipped on the top. But he used to make his own bread, maybe even in this bowl, and I cherish it.
I got home from work early today, and there was a sliver of sunlight peeking in through the windows, and the bowl was on the table, waiting for me, and I took these photos, and I thought of him.