I, along with my partner, went to an estate sale yesterday. I had never been to one before. There was a lot of cool stuff. The most interesting thing about it to me was not that I had an opportunity to buy someone’s old stuff though. I found myself thinking about who that person was and what I could learn of their life from the stuff I saw.
It was the last day of the sale, so I did not have as much to go on as I otherwise might have. There was still a lot there to see though.
The old gal who passed away seemed like she might have been widowed, but if so it was not very recently. She certainly traveled the world quite a bit. There were artifacts from China, Germany, Iowa, and throughout Europe. There were a slew of nifty handbags, fancy hats, fur coats, and delicate jewelry. This woman had a certain prideful way of presenting herself. Perhaps deservedly so.
I found myself wondering what it might be that she carried from place to place in the big trunk that we found in the basement. We bought the trunk for our boys to use as a toy box, so I can state with absolute certainty that the trunk was very heavy. And I am only speaking of its empty state. Did she carry all her fancy attire to attend high class social events. I like to think so.
When I travel, I pack as light as possible. I want to be able to move. I do not want more stuff with me than what I can reasonably carry myself. By this, I mean a backpack for a trip of a week or more. For a weekend, it is ideal to pack only my satchel or share a bag with my partner. Thus, the idea of lugging this trunk around was completely foreign to me.
The sale itself was across the street from where my family and I live. We had noticed it from the beginning of course, what with the cars parking in front of our driveway and all. Therefore I had a little more background to add to this person, but not much. I never did meet her (save for a possible trick-or-treating with the boys) or consciously notice her outside of her house. What I did notice a few months earlier was that an ambulance had been making routine visits to the house. Sometimes late at night. Sometimes during the day. Many times multiple times a day. This went on for a week or two before it abruptly stopped.
I find it fascinating to think about the life of this person I never met. Who was she? What did she mean to her family and friends? What stories did she have to tell that she will never tell again?
She met the same fate that we all will one day. She passed and all that was left was stuff. Relics of her existence.
It was the last day of the sale, so I did not have as much to go on as I otherwise might have. There was still a lot there to see though.
The old gal who passed away seemed like she might have been widowed, but if so it was not very recently. She certainly traveled the world quite a bit. There were artifacts from China, Germany, Iowa, and throughout Europe. There were a slew of nifty handbags, fancy hats, fur coats, and delicate jewelry. This woman had a certain prideful way of presenting herself. Perhaps deservedly so.
When I travel, I pack as light as possible. I want to be able to move. I do not want more stuff with me than what I can reasonably carry myself. By this, I mean a backpack for a trip of a week or more. For a weekend, it is ideal to pack only my satchel or share a bag with my partner. Thus, the idea of lugging this trunk around was completely foreign to me.
The sale itself was across the street from where my family and I live. We had noticed it from the beginning of course, what with the cars parking in front of our driveway and all. Therefore I had a little more background to add to this person, but not much. I never did meet her (save for a possible trick-or-treating with the boys) or consciously notice her outside of her house. What I did notice a few months earlier was that an ambulance had been making routine visits to the house. Sometimes late at night. Sometimes during the day. Many times multiple times a day. This went on for a week or two before it abruptly stopped.
I find it fascinating to think about the life of this person I never met. Who was she? What did she mean to her family and friends? What stories did she have to tell that she will never tell again?
She met the same fate that we all will one day. She passed and all that was left was stuff. Relics of her existence.
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