Last week I dropped and broke my favorite tea mug. I was very disappointed that I had done this because it was special to me. I had given the mug to my dad for Fathers' Day back in the 1980s. I remember spending a lot of time looking around the local gift shop before deciding on that mug. I chose it because my dad was always overflowing the little coffee cups that were a part of our family's everyday dish set. The mug was a generous size with a nice handle. My dad used that mug every day, for close to ten years. When he died, my mother offered the mug to me. I quietly took it home, wondering whether to use it, or display it as some sort of remembrance of my dad.