"Replacing the basket that the napkins go in"

"It’s time to replace the basket that the napkins go in"

The napkins go in a basket at the center of our family table
The basket is square and at least as old as I am
Or at least as old as my memory of objects

The basket holds napkins just fine
But for some reason, it is also broken
With wicker spears exposed and sharp on one side
The basket is humble
But useful 
But ugly

The basket is comfortable for me to look at now

Twice a year, when I come back here
And sit at this hometown table

I've never even thought about this basket

Now, apparently, it will be replaced
So my original people - who do look at it every day - for at least 30 years
Won’t be disturbed by its shortcomings
And won’t be reminded 
That these old things are younger than they are
But still ready to be replaced

They get to decide what gets seen and what gets forgotten 

I had already forgotten about the basket 

Anytime I don’t look at it I have forgotten it

Even when I looked at it
Every day for 18 years
Every few months for five years
Every 6 months for ten years
I had forgotten it, even looking at it now

But now it will be replaced

And my grief is unbearable