Everywhere and Nowhere

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