possessions

A week or so ago I went to an estate sale.

An estate sale isn't at all like a yard sale where someone is trying to get rid of old baby clothes or some knickknacks they no longer want.  And estate sale is just like it sounds- the entire estate is for sale.  Dishes, clothing, jewelry, tools, books, towels, sheets, furniture, etc.  Everything in the house.   Sometimes it's pretty sad.  Sometimes you know the estate belonged to an old person who has died or a person who's been put into a home. Their walkers, bathtub benches, and wheelchairs are among the items for sale.

So this one last week was pretty thought provoking.  I happened to run into an old friend of mine who was helping out with the sale and he was able to provide me with a few facts about the owners of the house.  The place was already pretty interesting, the man had collected hundreds, and I am NOT exaggerating, of cameras and toy train sets and she was an avid collector of dishes, purses and clothing.

As I am wandering around the house on the last day of the sale, it's clear from what's left that there was so much more that had already sold.  They had two garages and a full basement in addition to a pretty large house.  Plenty of space to store these accumulations.

As I realized the extent of what these people had collected over the years I couldn't help thinking about what it all means.  These people spent their lives searching, coveting, and acquiring these things.  What possessed him to buy that many cameras?  Why did he feel like he had to have that many in his possession?  I mean, really, it appears that he was obsessed because the amount of stuff is evidence of the amount of time and energy he must've spent on this "hobby".  But why?  Did he think they'd be worth something someday? Was it purely for investment purposes?  Was he just in love with the form of the cameras and trains?  Did he use them?  Play with them?  She had an ENITRE room dedicated to her china collections.  A room in the house was equipped with built in shelves and display cases to house all of her dishes and ornamentals.  Why did she feel she needed all of them?  Did she hang out in the room just gazing lovingly at all of the objects?  Did they hold special memoires for her?

What's even more interesting is what I found out from my friend.  He was helping out his friends that day who were the children of the deceased.  He told me that the couple had actually died in the 1990's  and that the house had been empty for 16 years.  So for all of those years the house sat empty of its owners, filled with their valued possessions, like a shrine, a time capsule waiting to be opened.  I wondered how the children felt about this little pocket of their parents just sitting there.  Waiting.

It's so fascinating to think about how we as humans feel the need to acquire objects, whether they be for beauty, usefulness, or some other need.  We have these things that we see as important, we're sad when we lose them, overjoyed when we find them.  There are things that hold memories, wishes and hopes and when you see them again, it all comes flooding back to you.  Do we keep them because of the memory?  For what it represents because we're worried we might lose the memory if we lose the thing?  

And then comes the inevitable.  The day you die.  All of the things that you hung onto, felt were precious to you, are left behind.

A remainder of a life.   A life full of memoires, experiences, hopes, dreams, and desires.

Left behind for your family to sort through and for strangers to bargain for.