Broken Ash Tray

After many years and a long string of broken relationships, it came down to this:  A broken ash tray reduced him to tears.  Why would such an insignificant piece of pottery cause such a break down?  It was the shattering of glass and the plume of flying ashes that returned him to a moment of his childhood.  

His parents had been fighting and arguing for many months.  Too often it happened and that the sparks would start flying while he and his older brother were sleeping.  Nasty words and horrible accusations flew about the house while he and his brother were glued to their beds as tears streamed down their faces.


Why didn't the parents understand that their words and actions cut so deeply into the hearts of little boys? They don't care who is right or wrong.  They just want to be loved and know that the ones who love them also love each other.  Without that, the world is a much darker place.  

Then came the night of the huge blow up.  The arguments had been bad before but this took a turn for the worst.  The fighting intensified until suddenly the sound of breaking glass pierced the night.  Both boys bolted upright and looked at each other.  Anxiety lined their faces.  Still, neither moved from their beds.  Fear of what they might see kept them glued to the sheets.  More glass exploded in the night. Then a scream cried for him to get out.  They heard the front door open and close.  The truck was started. They heard the gravel crunch beneath the tires as it backed out of the driveway.  The motor revved and the truck sped away.  The only sound was sobbing coming from their mother downstairs.  Still, the boys did not move.  Eventually, their own cries put them to sleep.  

When morning light began to seep into the house, the boy crept down to view the carnage.  Apprehension filled him as he tiptoed his way.  Then he saw it.  He parents used a log shaped ash tray in the house and it now lay in pieces.  Somehow, the boy's soul identified with that ash tray.  Eventually, he accepted the fact that he would never see his father again.  Looking back on it all now, he realized his tender heart was the ash tray.  It was broken and never to be repaired.  

He spent his life trying to be worthy of love and desperately wanted to love him.  However, he never felt comfortable and believed he had to continually work to keep everyone happy.  If they were happy, they wouldn't get mad or hate him or leave him.  That obliterated ash tray from his childhood demonstrated that he didn't do enough to keep the ones he loved together.  Since he never left the bed to do SOMETHING, his parents separated.  He never understood why his father never contacted them. The hole in his heart was so vast.  

With a cigarette hanging in his trembling hand and a broken ash tray on the ground, it started to make sense.  As his therapist put it, he is not to blame.  Accidents happen.  He didn't mean to knock it on the ground.  The therapist retrieved another ash tray from a cupboard and placed it on the table next to him.  There is nothing a little boy of 6 can do to keep his parents together.  There is also nothing he can do to separate them.  The tears continued streaming but for the first time in his life he felt that each tear was washing away the dirt and grime that had caked his soul.  The thought of the possibility of being whole was enough hope for him right now.  There was finally hope.  

#hope