I just took the plates out of the dishwasher. They are clean and dry, and still warm as I pack them. I am selling my Fiestaware. I’ve been collecting it for a long time, but it’s time to pass it on and let someone else party with it.
“Fiesta” means “party” in Spanish. These heavy, colorful dishes bring a casual, “just a few good friends over for dinner” vibe to the table every time. And the Margaritas that have been made in that pitcher…Ay, caramba! My mouth waters just thinking about it.
I’ve put all the plates in a crate that was holding books, which I’ve left sitting in a stack on the garage floor. Next stop. Half-Price Books. The bowls are in one bag, and the infamous Margarita pitcher is in another. I carry them out to the front porch where I will meet the young man who is headed my way to buy them. And as I do my throat constricts.
“You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” Eleanor Roosevelt
Why? Why am I letting these go? I ask myself that with each thing I give away, or sell. And my reasons are valid. These are too heavy. We are downsizing. We are moving. We are trading all of this for…adventure. For something new and unknown. It’s an “eyes on the prize” mindset that keeps me moving forward. I know that eventually, I will leave everything behind, so why not start the disentanglement now? And why not start with the things that are hardest to let go of, first? Perhaps it’s perverse. Or better yet, brave. Things will just get easier.
I look at the crate and bags sitting on my porch, and hope that the young man buying them is opening a restaurant…his Craigslist name seemed to suggest that. I imagine myself going to his cafe, ordering a delicious dessert, and it arriving on one of my Fiestaware plates. Full circle. I hope he will love them, and they will serve him and his guests as well, and with as much gusto, as they have me and my friends over the years.