A Thing By Any Other Name

I have great difficulty in determining what is truly important. I can be very self-centered, and judge importance in terms of how the thing or event affects me, and those whom I love. While I know abstractly that global warming, the credit crisis, rising unemployment and the duplicity of politicians are much more important than my photographs of my children and grandchildren and those few remaining pieces of depression glass that I managed to salvage from the wreckage of my mother's life, I'm pretty sure that I would shed more tears over the loss of those photos and cups than I would over the failure of another bank or brokerage house. (I am also pretty sure that the previous sentence was way too long.)
I will illustrate my lack of sense of perspective with a small example of a recent Z-Meltdown. I had a glass statuette of a three-headed, winged dragon that I prized. It sat on a special stand in front of the window in our living room. It had no great monetary value, but it sparkled in the sunlight and pleased me every time I looked at it. And then, one fateful day, Hubby reached across it to open the blinds and KNOCKED IT OFF THE TABLE AND IT SHATTERED INTO TOO MANY PIECES TO REASSEMBLE (he had broken it before, but into only two pieces, which he was able to mend). I screeched and swore and cried like someone had been killed in front of my eyes. Hubby was defensive and I was unforgiving. We were both unhappy for the rest of the day. Then, at some point, I realized that the glass dragon was just a FUCKING THING, but my husband was the man I love and treasure and need more than any mere object. I apologized, we snuggled, and all was well. I will try hard to remember this example, and save my hysterics for something truly important, like a speeding comet heading straight for Wall Street. OH SHIT!