I hope that you make it, you likely won't
Yea, so I totally invaded my grandmother's yardsale yesterday. I got so many excellent things! The garage was lined with little trinkets, survivors from 1910 to 2004. I got good deals on everything, I even got Jesus salt and pepper shakers from the 1920's (I didn't include pictures of those because my camera battery was running low). My grandmother had a pretty stong fascination with the Deon (sp?) quintuplets, she gave me three original photographs of them in pretty silver frames. She looked like she was going to cry when she gave them to me, she kept telling me she was so glad I was taking them.
I never want to get old, to force myself to realize that I need to give up things that once had meaning and sentiment. I know objects are just objects, it's their departure that ruins things, having braclet after tea cup after picture frame plucked from posession until something more than that is gone. I think i'm materialistic, i'm probably shallow and I definately place too much emphasis on insignifigant objects. Or maybe i'm just selfish. Either way, my heart broke as I watched her tirelessly auction away pieces of her life: silent watches, stained tea cups, cd's that skip.
At the end of the sale she was forcing me to take her posessions: pictures taken by my uncle on his world round trip in the 80's, portraits of the Deon quintuplets during her strange obsession in the 30's, jewlery that followed her to bars and resturants, and a tin tea set rusted and bent from overuse or neglect.
She piled all these things into a box originally used to carry muffins.
"uhm, how much does all this stuff come to?"
"uhm, I don't know.....$4? $5?"
The contents within that filthy muffin box easily retailed at $90.
"I just want you to have this stuff"
She finally settled for $7. She walked away and asked if I could carry it myself, her back was too sore. Her voice cracked and she turned away quickly.
I thought of sending her a card, a picture of myself or something (all the pictures she has of me are either my akward ugly stage or my painted-up-like-trash phase) but I couldn't help wondering if it would just be another thing to pine over, something for her to fuss with in 10 years and feel guilty about selling.
I can see myself in her.
Yea, so I totally invaded my grandmother's yardsale yesterday. I got so many excellent things! The garage was lined with little trinkets, survivors from 1910 to 2004. I got good deals on everything, I even got Jesus salt and pepper shakers from the 1920's (I didn't include pictures of those because my camera battery was running low). My grandmother had a pretty stong fascination with the Deon (sp?) quintuplets, she gave me three original photographs of them in pretty silver frames. She looked like she was going to cry when she gave them to me, she kept telling me she was so glad I was taking them.
I never want to get old, to force myself to realize that I need to give up things that once had meaning and sentiment. I know objects are just objects, it's their departure that ruins things, having braclet after tea cup after picture frame plucked from posession until something more than that is gone. I think i'm materialistic, i'm probably shallow and I definately place too much emphasis on insignifigant objects. Or maybe i'm just selfish. Either way, my heart broke as I watched her tirelessly auction away pieces of her life: silent watches, stained tea cups, cd's that skip.
At the end of the sale she was forcing me to take her posessions: pictures taken by my uncle on his world round trip in the 80's, portraits of the Deon quintuplets during her strange obsession in the 30's, jewlery that followed her to bars and resturants, and a tin tea set rusted and bent from overuse or neglect.
She piled all these things into a box originally used to carry muffins.
"uhm, how much does all this stuff come to?"
"uhm, I don't know.....$4? $5?"
The contents within that filthy muffin box easily retailed at $90.
"I just want you to have this stuff"
She finally settled for $7. She walked away and asked if I could carry it myself, her back was too sore. Her voice cracked and she turned away quickly.
I thought of sending her a card, a picture of myself or something (all the pictures she has of me are either my akward ugly stage or my painted-up-like-trash phase) but I couldn't help wondering if it would just be another thing to pine over, something for her to fuss with in 10 years and feel guilty about selling.
I can see myself in her.
2 Comments:
At 7:08 PM,
katherine said…
Sarah -
I'm stalking you again. I called you so many times this weekend. How is your work going? How are you doing?
heart, K.
At 4:01 AM,
Saraiu01 said…
You did?! arg. No one ever gives me messages! I was drowning in school work ALL weekend (except for Thanksgiving dinner). But after Thursday i'll have a few days to hang out.
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