Like most people, I love a bargain. Garage sales and thrift stores are the best places to find the odd must have. This week I decided I needed to replenish my yarn stash so on the way to the market, I planned on stopping at a few garage sales. Saturdays are great for this and most times I’m not disappointed.
As I left my driveway, I saw a sign for an estate sale. I hurried inside the small house and noticed a familiar smell. It was a mixture of mustiness and age. There was a feeling a history in the tiny abode. Birthdays, Christmases, and happy times. I walked through the house and there was something else. The loss of family.
It was sad to see strangers paw through a lifetime of things. I looked at the costume jewelry and thought of the person who had worn the pins, necklaces, and earrings. So much sparkle and elegance.
A woman stood in the kitchen and was talking to a friend. She said the house was going on the market next week. The woman was probably the daughter, and her parent must have died recently.
I didn’t buy anything. I don’t know why. There were some yarn and a pair of size 11 knitting needles, but I didn’t feel it. Maybe it was the karma in the house. The person that lived in the house was still here. I could feel her.
With my mind still on the estate sale, I was empty handed after a few stops. Is this what’s going to happen when I die? I kept thinking when I’m gone strangers will be parading in my home rummaging through my things. But I won’t think about it today. Tomorrow is soon enough.