Recently I gave a pair of old plastic plates to charity. It’s interesting how letting go of attachments to certain things can create a cathartic release. I had those plates for 17 years — they were the symbol of an era for me —but it was the right time and place to let them go.
The plates joined our household the year we moved to Austin. One was neon green, the other electric pink. Like school cafeteria trays, they were divided into three sections to keep the food from mixing. They were perfect for Zach’s tiny hands, just learning to navigate big plates and little forks.
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This is a part of continuing series of personal essays by current and former Austinites. Submit your own Tale of the City (900 words or less) to email@example.com for consideration by our editors.