Saturday, March 26, 2011

The burden is lifted

Well, the estate auction at Mother Cookie's has come, and it has gone. 

And we are very relieved, but we are also euphoric!

You see the burden and worry about the consents of Casa Cookie have weighed very heavily upon our shoulders simply because they were there.  But their existence also became a bit of a burden because they were the things that she loved because meant something to her, while it didn't mean squat to me.

Sometimes, though, you just have to make a decision based on business, not on emotional or sentimental factors.  And last Sunday afternoon I had reached my limit.  Like a mother dog who tends to her litter, there comes a time when everything needs to go, and last Sunday I reached my limit.  And just as quick as you can say "fuck it,"  as I declared to my husband, I was over all of it, and we left.

So yesterday I met the auctioneers employees, and they started to throw this stuff into lots, into boxes and parceled the contents in to salable groups.  While 99.44% of the stuff was picture perfect (Mother kept a very clean house and kept her things very clean and like new) I poshed silver to make it sparkle, made sure that certain things that should have been together were together.  I also needed a few moments to myself.  Just to be with the things that she loved because I loved her, too.

This morning was cold and crisp.  by the time we reached the house things were abuzz with activity.  I could tell people what to do.  Reader, when I tell you that being able to tell people what to do and having them do it makes me giddy, you better believe it.

In the end, expensive things went cheap.  Cheap things went for insanely huge amounts.  The Erwin-Lambeth coffee table sold for a mere $200.  A vase from a Teleflora arrangement that I almost threw in the trash sold for $20!  The 5 year old car sold for $4,000 more than either I or the auctioneers thought it would sell for.  And a used Dyson went for $350!  You can buy a new one for that.  But the moment grabs people, making me wonder how many people got home only to think "now why did I buy that!"

And by 1 PM it was over and all of the contents were gone. 

But wait, there's  Now we attack the house and paint, and deep clean and spackle, and wash and shine.  Gotta make it look good for the next round of potential buyers.

But the best part is that I have the things - the small intangible things - that remind me of her.  A pin box, her seam ripper, and the nutcracker I bought for her when I was Kindergarten that looks like a tiki.

The things that mean the most can't be sold at an auction, because you put put a price on memories, and having finally come to understand this and know it is true, I am at peace.  Let life go on - I have much to do...


  1. I'm so glad it done and over with. Hope the sale of the house goes as quickly and smoothly.

  2. What a wonderful sense of closure, I'm sure. Take a deep breath, and rest.