In 2001, just a few months before 9/11, Lucy, my ex-wife, went to New York with her mom. They went to see several Broadway shows while in the Big Apple. She bought a snow globe filled with the city’s top landmarks and signs of the more popular Broadway shows.
About three years ago, we had just moved to a new house. Her snow globes were packed in a trunk in the garage. One night, as she was in search of another item, she placed the globe from the city so nice, they named it twice, on the floor of the garage.
She should have put it back where it belonged, but she didn’t. I saw it there the next day. I was somewhat peeved that she’d left it there. I should’ve picked it up and put it back in its proper place, but I didn’t. I was wrong for that.
It remained on the floor of the garage for several days. Each of us had multiple opportunities to pick it up and do the right thing, but both of us failed.
One night, I turned on the light in the garage, but the bulb blew. It didn’t faze me. I continued on into garage. Several seconds later, I accidentally kicked the snow globe over and shattered the glass. I picked everything up, discarded the glass and put the base in a box. I vowed to get it repaired one day.
Less than a year later, Lucy and I were divorced. She took her stuff, and I took mine. I also took her broken snow globe. I knew it could be fixed.
In the fall, we started talking again, and for the most part, it was very pleasant. We started hanging out again, too. We were just friends enjoying each other’s company; we were trying to get to know each other better than before.
Inevitably, we started talking about a possible future but knew we had to fix some things. When I saw the writing on the wall that we could be fixed, I sent off the broken souvenir to Colorado to be repaired.
I’d hoped to get it back by Valentine’s Day. I had a speech and a romantic presentation laid out for her. I wanted to show it as a symbol for our failed marriage and how we both contributed to it but also as a symbol of how something so special could be repaired, but that didn’t happen. The repairs on the globe took longer than expected.
By God’s Grace, we didn’t need the snow globe to symbolize our brokenness or our repairs. We made a decision to give our relationship another go while the repairs were taking place.
Last week, I surprised her and returned to her the repaired snow globe. It looked brand new — better than ever. She had no idea that I had sent it off and had no idea that it could be salvaged.
Upon further review, it wasn’t perfect. The Statue of Liberty’s torch had broken off, but that was okay. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough.
When something is special and you know it. You don’t throw it away. You keep it. You hold onto it the best you can, and when the timing is right, you fix it.
Jody Fuller is from Opelika, Ala. He is a comic, speaker, writer and soldier with three tours of duty in Iraq. He is also a lifetime stutterer. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. For more information, please visit www.jodyfuller.com.