It’s just a cup hanging there. It’s one of the last few that Jackie gave me.

It can be filled with delicious bitter coffee or a small serving of wine. Or it could be a reminder of how much time I spend here, a huge chunk of my life.

It will probably fade into the periphery of my vision and observation. That’s the problem with so many of our keepsakes and possessions.

I’ve left these cups in a variety of places. To mark my temporary presence, to take a picture and remember.

I’ll run out of teacups. But I won’t forget Jackie or the moments the tea cups mark. Most people think they have an infinite number of teacups and moments.

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