Dawn's Notes
Broken but Beautiful - April 2024
by Dawn Phelps, RN/LMSW
It is just a small white porcelain jar, less than 3 inches tall, round, and flawless at a glance. I don’t where it came from, when it was made, or what it was used for. There are no words on it. It is plain, yet beautiful. The little jar was unearthed when a deep trench was dug from inside our garage to the back alley in order to connect our new sewer line with the city’s. The old clay tiles under our garage floor had collapsed, so a large swathe of concrete across the garage and backyard had to be removed, and a new pipe buried.
For several weeks we could not live in our house due to the immensity of the job. And when the little white jar and a few other old bottles were brought to the surface, we were curious about their history. They looked very old and were covered with dirt and gooey mud, inside and out. The mud was stuck so tightly that it took lots of time and scrubbing to get them clean. The new glass treasures were a tiny distraction from the messy sewer project. I put them all in an old ice cream bucket with dish soap and warm water to soak. I would scrub them, pour off the dirty water, and scrub them again, time after time—it took some work!
When I finally scrubbed all of the mud off the little jar, I noticed the inside bottom was covered with a “web” of tiny cracks like tiny jagged streaks of lightning across it. For years the jar had been covered in the earth. Ground water had trickled down on it. The weight of the dirt created pressure, and there were probably repetitive freezing and thawing temperatures. The “elements” had been rough on it! The outside of the jar looked perfect and unharmed, yet the inside told a different story. Somehow I felt an affinity for the inside of that jar. It looked old and worn, similar to how I had felt after my husband died.
Thinking back to those months, I remember one day when I slowly drove through a small town on my way to a home visit with a client. The weather was beautiful, but my heart was still sad. The activity in the downtown area seemed unchanged from previous visits. People were talking, smiling, shopping—their usual routines. For them, life had not paused, yet my heart was in shambles.
That day I had to put on my happy face for my visit, but the memory of how I felt that day has stuck with me. Maybe you have experienced something similar. After your loved one died, someone may have asked you, “How are you doing?” and maybe you replied, “I’m fine” even when you did not feel “fine” in your heart. Like the little jar, my exterior did not show the tiny cracks of grief. But inside I felt broken, like three-fourths of myself was gone without my husband. But life had to go on, and healing did slowly begin. And with patience, time, and work, I did find purpose in my life again.
I recently re-read an article entitled “How the Japanese Art of Kintsugi Can Help You Deal with Stressful Situations.” The article states that when most people break a bowl or vase, we throw it away. Because it is broken, we consider it no longer useful. But with Kintsugi Japanese art, instead of throwing broken pieces into the trash, the Japanese pick up the pieces and gently put them back together. They glue gold into the cracks, creating a piece of art more beautiful and more valuable than the original broken object. Since every piece of the broken object is unique, it will never look the same again. The 400-year-old art technique uses the seams, the “scars,” as a part of the new design, and a stunningly new beautiful object is created!
Like a broken jar or vase, inside, we are still the same person. On the outside, we may look the same, but like my little white jar, perhaps we have an inside “web” of tiny cracks. After a loss, we are challenged to deal with our “brokenness” and rebuild our lives—to fit the pieces back together. We can search for ways use our personality, experiences, talents, even our “scars” to add beauty to the world. It make take some time, but it is possible!
As you grieve, look for ways to fill your tiny “webs” with new healing moments, and use your past to urge you toward the future. After a loss, you are still valuable. You are here for a purpose. You are needed. And after a loss, your life can be beautiful again!
Call about the next "Living Life after Loss" Group at:
Meadowlark Hospice
709 Liberty, Clay Center, Kansas
(785) 632-2225
Dawn Phelps, RN/LMSW, Group Facilitator