In my dish cabinet is a plate that doesn't match the other plates. It's yellow and blue, and it's chipped on the edge. I'm not sure how this one plate got into my house. It's my favorite plate.
This plate is my mom's plate.
I can't quite remember, but I think this pattern of "everyday" dinnerware was a wedding present for my mom and stepdad. This pattern was the mark of a new start for us. I'm sure the plate got chipped somewhere in the moves we made and the transitions we went through. I ate the breakfast my mom made on these plates each morning before school. Family dinners were served on this plate and its sisters-- day after day, until I went to college. My mom packed them up for me and sent them to Mississippi State so my best friend and I could share meals on these same plates. Poptarts on these plates and Ramen noodles in the matching bowls. New chapter, but the same pattern.
Now, this is the only plate left in my cabinet- the others are in storage somewhere. This plate doesn't quite match the plates and bowls I received as my own wedding gift, but this plate is still my favorite. When the only thing constant is change, this plate reminds me that there's a little tradition every where. There are classics, and there are small comforts to be found everywhere! Every time I use this plate, I think of family and growth and how some things just follow us from chapter to chapter.
It's wild that a plate can have meaning like