Several months ago I signed up with a website that lists estate
sales not only in my area but in other areas of the country.
Estate Sales is a great free service that will notify you of
estate sales in your town or you can expand your search to
include nearby cities. They give you the dates and the address of
the sale and also include pictures so you can easily decide if it's a
sale you want to visit or to skip.
While looking through the photos of this coming weekend's
sale in my town I decided that I would skip it. What I did notice
though was a woman's life opened up and displayed before my
eyes. She has passed away yet her life was there on display
for all to see. She liked to quilt. She had all sorts of quilt
patterns and there was an unfinished quilt top. She was a neat
person. Her shoes were all carefully placed in the original boxes
never to be worn by her again. A winter coat with a fake fur
collar hung on display. I could imagine her wearing it to
church on a cold winter Sunday morning in this church going
town.
She was everywhere yet she was also nowhere. Do you ever notice
that feeling when you walk through an antique shop? Everywhere
there are dishes, trinkets, furniture and books that were once loved
and used by someone.
How many times were the drawers of this dresser opened by it's
owner? What did the owner of this dresser look like?
Do the vibrations of a heart become attached to a beloved piece
of furniture the way one's DNA remains on an envelope that
has been licked by the sender?
Do the vibrations of sound and movement live on in a recovered
upholstered bench? Sounds of laughter and tears that are
permanently etched in the fibers of the batting and into the
wood of it's legs. Vibrations that no amount of paint or new
fabric can cover?
Have you ever looked through an old family photo album and
sensed the essence of the loved ones who have passed?
Loved ones who are nowhere yet everywhere?
Sometimes I find a vintage book in a shop and when I open
the cover there is a note written inside for it's recipient. Happy
Birthday wishes or Merry Christmas to one loved one from
another. If I pause very quietly over those handwritten words
on old faded and yellowed pages, I can almost feel the love
that was meant for that book's recipient.
The other night I was taking Bentley on his nightly walk and
I looked up at the very clear and star filled sky. The same stars
that looked down upon loved ones who have now past. Loved
ones who were suddenly here with us yet nowhere.
Just some random musings on a cold and rainy day.
Big Texas Hugs,
Susan and Bentley
