A Kind Of One

'Do not cry over spilled milk.'
The saying goes.
But what about broken art work? Broken ONE OF A KIND art?
Am I allowed to cry over that?
Well, whatever the answer is - I did. I cried a whole lot, actually. 
At first I cried for the loss. Then, I cried for the meaning the piece held for me and the meaning of it now as it was shattered to pieces, and then I cried out of relief to the notion that with its shattering - I let the idea of 'One Of A Kind' shatter along. 

Is anything really 'one of a kind?'
Stay with me: We use this term to consider art, or handmade work, or PEOPLE to be sort of special, on a pedestal, in a level of their own. We tell children 'You are special!'
But while I was very happy to be considered 'one of a kind' as a child in this immersive experience called 'life' - the more years I live on... the more I see I am not one of a kind, but rather I am a kind of one.
Every human is a marvel. We are all unique - at least the culture of individualism teaches us so - so then.... doesn't 'unique' mean absolutely nothing?? 
We tell children they are special... but sometimes we forget to clarify the important distinction - that they are special TO US. They are one of a kind TO US. 
That piece was one of a kind to me. And now that it's broken - it is still one of a kind.
A broken one of a kind, but one of a kind nonetheless...