a unique birthday

My grandparents {on my Mom’s side} had a cabin up in Strawberry.
We would go visit, frequently when I was younger.
I remember helping my grandma make something in the kitchen.
I can’t even think of how old I was at the time. I know I was younger than 8.
But I remember this pot she had.
It was sadly looking.
A handle broken. And so old.
I remember just feeling so badly for it.
And I remember wondering “do pots have birthdays?”
{I have no idea why I thought this, the mind of a child}
But my grandma and I threw a birthday party for that Pot.
I think we even baked it a cake.
And every time I see that pot I think of that day we threw it a birthday party.
I cherish that memory!
{Thanks Grandma for making that happen}

{edit: i changed the title. i got a comment from a bloggy friend pointing out the obvious of the previous title "the birthday pot" well...i dont want people coming her looking for that other kind of pot. they would be sorely disappointed.}