After the accident, when I finally went down to Texas to put the house on the market-we had the sale of all yard sales.
I had decided that it was best for us to be by family, but had only been working for about 6 weeks. Munchkin was 1, so living with mom and dad was by far our best option. That being said, it was not practical nor necessary to move my entire house. So after much thought, prayer and tears, I decided to sell everything that I could. I was still in shock at how much the funeral had cost and I was determined to repay my father for the thousands of dollars that he had paid for me. Literally, he paid everything without a pause.
So as we walked through the house, the criteria I used was that if it could be replaced, I would replace it when I decided to move from mom and dad's. At that time, I was pretty sure I would be there forever. I could not see how I could manage to live on my own and take care of us. If it had sentimental value, I packed it.
I remember standing in the middle of my house sobbing. I could not focus on anything. I could not bear to go outside and see people picking apart my life---deliberating over pennies. We sold my dishes, they were a wedding gift. We sold my craft table...it was a wooden table that had folding leaves and I made beautiful creations on it. We sold my son's baby clothes--he was not going to get smaller, and I am not going to have another child. We sold 90% of my clothing, I was living in a different climate. I no longer wear scrubs to work and flip flops are not year round attire. We sold out patio set, where we used to cook out and relax. We sold the contents of my kitchen, all of my bakeware and stuff--I no longer had my own kitchen to create in. We sold the workbench that we build together. We sold his car parts-the car was totalled, they were useless reminders to me anyway. It was heartbreaking. We sold anything that pretty much was not nailed down and then some.
What did I pack? Surprisingly a lot of memories. Most of his t-shirts and sweatshirts-which consisted of every Bears t-shirt known to man! I can picture him in everyone of them. about 25 different Bears jerseys. 12, count them 12 huge blue plastic totes of music. Enough for a library. And while I am a musician, I will never teach middle school band, so about 4 of those got given to a new teacher for her use in her career-but not until this past year. If I never see a blue tote again, it will be too soon! Everytime I tried to unpack one, I was floored and paralyzed by the memories.
So now, as I try and rebuild things, even though yard sales are a great way to get things cheaply, I usually can't bear to even go see them. I know that my yard sale was a very rare reason, however, to see people's belongings spread over tables and grass, welll, it just reminds me of my own heartache.