Posted by: Mike Jackson | June 13, 2010

Yard Sale

Strange, but I thought I would feel different about turning all our junk into cash. I am not a clutter person so getting rid of things suits me. Yesterday we had day two of our yard sale. We spent days organizing for it: putting little neon colored stickers on everything imaginable. Then, we turned our driveway into a thrift store and watched as an assortment of people came through and searched for treasures.

What surprised me was the emotions when all the planning, dusting, pricing, advertising, organizing and waiting were over. Many of the items were things that held significant memories. I wondered if that woman considering our green couch wants to know that it is the couch we sat on when we very first brought home each of our boys from the hospital after they were born. We sat there staring at them, letting the life-changing moment sink in. Does that family looking at the green “worm” riding toy with the surprised eyes want to know that Trevor raced down the small hill outside our apartment in Hong Kong for countless hours when he was 2? Does that woman care that the water-damaged print of the “Ducks” painting is a painting I chose to write about for a middle school assignment? Probably not. I wouldn’t either I suppose.

But I did found myself biting my tongue at times. There were so many memories in that driveway yesterday and the $1 sticker on the handle of the worm just seems like a sad ending. Fortunately the family that bought it had a little boy who looked really excited to be scooting around on  it and the woman who bought the duck picture was really nice and said she’d sell me her Toyota when we returned from Saigon.

And the green couch did not sell . I’m going to go make some coffee, grab the newspaper, have a seat and wait for Trevor and Colin to join me on the couch on this beautiful morning.

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Responses

  1. Oh dear cousin, that post made me cry; and then look around our house. We took more than I expected with us when we did our move. I can understand you girding your loins and letting go. I hope that couch goes to a family that will hear your story and love it for that history as well.


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