When I was growing up my Nana had a dresser top full of things I adored. Seemed every square inch was occupied with something. Most important to dress up the furniture, she had an elegant translucent white lace doily that covered the top. Remember doilies? In the center was a small pot of purple African violets. And then, off to the side, was an ornate very old lamp. When she passed away I was given the lamp. I treasured it with all my heart for many years. It was extremely fragile and delicate though, so I always took precautions to tread carefully around it. But one day while in a hurry to clean up, it fell out of my hands to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. I was devastated. That part of my grandmother was now gone. All I managed to salvage were the broken heads of the figural Victorian couple in it. Everything else was destroyed. I cried and cried. I was so mad at myself for letting this happen. Over time the hurt got easier to deal with and I moved on… by buying myself another antique lamp, similar but different to the one my Nana had on her dresser. Have you ever had a beloved treasure or family heirloom leave you empty handed with a broken heart?