More stuff, estate sale carryover

I went to an estate sale today. Everything in the house was on sale – cupboards, shelves, books, furniture, down to the last tealight and cookie cutter. (Yes, I mean in the house.) I walked through it all, and it made me sort of sad. First, I didn’t want any of the stuff, not really – but there was a shitload of it – tons of blankets and bedding and tableware. Then I was torn between gawking at and hiding my eyes from the obvious invalid stuff – the bathing chair, the insulin-reading equipment (a variety thereof), little garden cart with a seat.

I didn’t know this woman (I could tell because of the one matronly party dress displayed against the closet door).  There was so much stuff – it was amazing.  None of it stunning.  Some of it was funny (the lime-green horsehair wraparound seating directly from the 1960’s, which by the way, had an enormous SOLD sign on it).  Most of it was mundane (books, clothes, dishes – but a lot of it – as W says, a lifetime’s worth in what was a pretty small house).  The women who were handling the sale seemed really matter of fact about the whole thing.  There was a surprising (to me, anyway) number of people at the sale.  I’d never been to one before – but I wonder how many of those people knew this lady.

I was feeling a bit maudlin about it – a tiny tiny bit.  Enough to have started this post.  My feelings on it boiled down to the idea of when we die, other people will have to deal with all of our stuff – the big and the small and I didn’t really want to burden the people I love with it, although that can’t be helped.

Then I came across a reminder to contact my local La Leche Lady (who is awesome) because I wanted to unload some of my old, gently used baby stuff.  I had doubts about some items (wasn’t ready to let go for a variety of reasons) and W told her that if she was collecting next year, we might let them go then.  She told him the stuff we were getting rid of was great, and whenever we were ready, she would be ready.  She was in contact with a number of needy families in the area.  I had assumed she might deliver this stuff to some shelters or something – and her telling me this made me feel good about giving this stuff away (and glad it was gone) and sad that someone really did need it.

Not certain where I’m going with this – except thinking that it’s all a cycle.  Death, birth, stuff.

Maybe it’s that all of these things, what I bought, what the estate lady first purchased – all of these things were intended for a purpose, a certain life, if you will.  These things outlived that purpose.  So, they were repurposed, for other people, other lives.  I want to believe these items will find use, and make other people’s lives a touch easier or happier.  I want to believe that this redistribution of things is, in a way, a redistribution of love and hope.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.


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