All used cups – 99 cents and there is one well-used A bit delicate A sharp lip The floral design fading into china white She drank her coffee black I conclude with a tipping look or perhaps a single sugar cube but certainly this cup lived its life favorited
It has rested beside many morning papers and accompanied many fresh tea-biscuits here it is - sad - lonely its friends saucer and spoon lost at the bottom of a box in back
All these other stranger cups surrounding most haven’t a clue how to be a favorite cup You must meet her lips just so for what you contain is both a delight and dangerous
You must shape into her hands lovingly on cold mornings and balance perfectly from her aging fingers when her mind is engaged elsewhere Your morning greetings should be bright and hopeful reminding her daily of all she is likely to forget - There is beauty in the world to savor today - There is goodness in every drop of life - There is truth to be stirred by even now
It is not an easy thing to be a favorite cup you must endure many more scrubbings than the visitors cups and the thoughtful-gift cups the ones which say “Worlds Greatest Grandma” the ones loved but unused You are far more likely to be dropped and chipped so you must be stronger than the rest and more than any other dish in the cupboard you become part of who she is until the day she dies and when she does the plates and bowls and holiday mugs will always find a new home you never will