Is there “junk” in your life? What kind? How do you get rid of it? Photographers, artists, poets: show us JUNK
One Man’s Junk…
In 2000, after Dad died, we had an estate sale at his house. Husband and I went through every cupboard and closet deciding what to keep, what to toss and what to sell.
Everything in Dad’s house had sentimental value to me, but especially the things he made in his woodshop. I gave the handcrafted items to family and his good friends; people who would cherish them as much as I did. The only piece that nobody claimed was the shield and swords that hung over his bed.
I was fond of the piece because Dad made it, but I didn’t have a place to hang a shield and swords in my little house and nobody had asked for it, so it stayed on the wall, priced to sell at the estate sale.
It didn’t sell. I was a little bit offended that it didn’t sell. What’s wrong with people? My Dad made this! It’s a work of art, but nobody wanted it. I guess not many folks have medieval décor nowadays.
I took pity on the shield and brought it home rather than donate it. I stored under it under my bed until the neighborhood’s annual yard sale event when, once again it went up for sale. I don’t recall what price I’d put on it, but it wasn’t much; a few bucks. Throughout the day people admired the workmanship, but nobody wanted to take it home. I felt kind of sad for the shield.
Late in the day, as the sale was ending, a woman came by with a skinny little boy, about six years old, maybe seven. The shield, propped up against the fence, caught his eye. He stooped to examine it while his momma checked out the vases and tchotchkes.
“How much is this?”, he asked.
“If you like it, you can have it for free,” I said. I told him my daddy made it.
“Really?!” His brown eyes lit up.
I got teary-eyed as he walked away, carrying the cumbersome treasure that was almost as large as he. Another little piece of Dad, going away. I was glad the shield was going to someone who loved it.
Dad would have been pleased too.