The One That Got Away: A Life Well Lived

I approach estate sales with curiosity, delicacy and respect. I go in search of history – a glimpse at someone’s life story. Walking through a stranger’s home is like reading a book; it’s a visual chapter to a past other than my own. I’ve witnessed rummagers who drudge through an entry before wiping wet snow and mud off their feet. They’re the same ones who are quick to snap pictures with their phones to research the price history of an item, so they can flip it on eBay before reaching their car. And they don’t pause to question and appreciate the object’s story. Some only see a pretty china set by Noritake. I see delicate swirls of gold surrounding hand painted flowers in pale blue, pink and green. This set isn’t a tea service, it’s for hot chocolate. I know this by the shape of the chocolate vessel, imagine the lower part of a teapot elongated. Because of its flawless unchipped completeness I imagine it wasn’t in everyday use.  I see family gatherings and wonder if the porcelain was reserved for bridal and baby showers. What celebrations did this dinnerware experience? And I do imagine celebrations, why else would you drink hot chocolate from such a lavish set?  I walk away from the scene I’ve created in my mind, only to discover a wedding portrait dated 1959 in a box in the basement. The couple look as couples do on their wedding day, invincible and drunk from love. This is how someone like me makes their way back up the stairs and goes home with a box full of pastel Noritake dessert ware, which I vow to use or gift to one of my daughters so its story continues.

I’m not an impulsive buyer. You won’t find my house in a state of clutter. I’ve never been one for Knick knacks, too much dusting. However, there are times when I’ve regretted not listening to my instincts. Like the time I walked through an estate sale in a beautiful Egremont home. This estate sale felt as though the owners were still alive and thriving. There were no cobwebs or scents of stale air. This estate felt vibrant, it helped that it was a sunny day and windows were in abundance. It was obvious by the baby grand piano, which a child’s fingers danced across, and the colorful artwork that whoever owned this property loved the arts. 

My regret hung on a wall. It was a painting of a woman.  If paintings were audible, this one was barely a whisper. Within the simple wooden frame was the back of a gray haired woman in a blue dress, sitting calmly at her writing desk. The golden lamp next to her is lit. She appears to be writing or contemplating words to put on paper. The painting isn’t busy, the interior she writes in has a beautiful window lined with plants that are lush and green. Above her desk is a painting within the painting of what I imagine are family members. It was the sense of calm and contentment that resonated. In a loud world this painting was unobtrusive and undemanding. As current events swirl chaos and uncertainty, this painting reminded me that beauty and grace can be discovered in unexpected spaces. I wasn’t expecting in the hustle and bustle of an estate sale to be moved to a state of calmness. Alas, the price tag was more than I could afford, so I did what I do often at estate sales where I leave empty handed, I snapped a picture. I hoped the new owner would see a glimpse of what I felt viewing the painting; brushstrokes that created a moment of respite. Seeing a woman sitting with content and comfortably in her own company. There are minimal objects within the frame to distract her from what I like to imagine was a life well lived.