Broken Pieces

I get confused so easily these days. I'm hardly ever sure what state I am in. I'm not talking about consciousness or etc. I'm actually speaking of the States United. I go to school in Colorado, live in Wyoming, and still think I'm in Utah. We visited Utah this weekend and went roller skating. My mother-in-law broke her arm. I felt horrible. I am fully aware that broken pieces are no fun. (Ironically, she broke her arm at the Fun Center.) You want to throw them away, but they still have value. A while ago I gave an Alice in Wonderland bridal shower. At the time I bought a Chesire cat teapot. In a move and in the groove of life I lost it. I tried to replace it with a tea set on Ebay. The woman in Florida packed it in newspaper. Suffice it to say it arrived in pieces and I have more broken pieces to deal with. The older I get the more I acquire. If I were less sentimental I could get rid of them. Instead I kept them. Literal and figurative pieces will someday make a beautiful mosaic.