Not a particular fan of estate sales, feels kind of creepy to me to be going through someone else's belongings. I understand the motivation and need for such sales but still, it feels wrong to me.
As I passed this place tonight There was a flat bed trailer parked under the yard light. On it were scattered the few remaining items of a persons life. A couple cardboard boxes, a vase laying on its side, a small pile that looked liked various cords twisted together, a bunch of plastic flowers. I felt very sad.
A life had been reduced to what it was worth to someone else and obviously these few items were of no value to anyone but the one who had owned them first.
Beyond reach of the yard light in dim weak light I could see the porch which had in years past been littered with furniture and plants was bare. The brightly colored what-nots and whirly-gigs that had held places in the yard gaily proclaiming the residents affection for Cardinals baseball and birds gone. The whole place looked barren and bare. Had the whole place been directly under the yard light it would have looked as forlorn and sad as the trailer.
As I continued on my way home I replaced the last sad picture of the little place with the one I had seen for the past several years as drove by. Brightly colored whirly-gigs and what-nots in the yard. The Cardinals flag flapping, the pots of flowers scattered around the porch. On the swing, the lady who had lived there for untold number of years. Looking out across the yard, enjoying the things that made up her life. Each one important to her. Each valuable.
