Alternate endings

The other day someone and I were discussing, you know, stuff, and I brought up something that I told him was too maudlin to write about here. Now that I think about it, though, I crossed into Maudlinville a long-ass time ago, so here goes.

Japanese pots: They're just fine straight from the warehouse. They're pristine, maybe even beautiful, and all that. But in Japan, a pot that shows a little wear, that's been scraped or chipped, has more value, because it's been useful. And if it's been banged up or even broken and pieced back together and still holds water? It's more valuable still.

Though it lacks subtlety, I do think this is an apt metaphor for individuals who've had tough times. But I also think it can apply to relationships between people. And I think that sometimes the glue -- words and acts, I suppose -- can be of such high quality that the bond can be even stronger than it was before. And yes, I do realize I'm sounding more than a little like a self-help book right now.

At the end of Sula by Toni Morrison, Nel visits Sula's grave and wails, "We was girls together." I can't even think about that scene without getting emotional.

The book probably wouldn't have been as good if Nel and Sula had reconciled, but I still like to imagine a different ending.