Dear Dad, his hammer-swinging days are done...
(but not the effects of them!)
Many a garden shed, stool, plant stand, clothes dryer, tables, chairs etc.
outlive the swing of his hammer and other tools!
On Saturday we gathered at mom and dad's
and held a family auction sale to rehome most of their belongings.
It was an incredibly bittersweet day! Perfect weather!
and when the day was over the yard was bare of their belongings
except the ones saved for their move into their granny flat,
(happening hopefully in the next month or so!)
A few months ago we rehomed and dissolved the last of Jim's mom's things;
a profound and tangible reminder of the fleetingness of things!
My mother of ten children
'watched/watches over the ways of her household,
and did/does not eat the bread of idleness...
so sale items were lovingly organized,
clearly labeled, and impeccably clean;
a reflection of the way she cared for her busy household throughout the years.
some of the dolls from our childhood...
Thankfully (hopefully) we do not derive our worth or happiness from our things,
though things (like mom's extensive library) brought to our book-loving family,
much joy, pleasure, education and value to ordinary days,
and mementos/decor added loving touches to home, sweet home.
When mom and dad moved from the farm, dad became busy in his woodshop,
and carpentry, so many tools and woodworking mementos etc. were sold as well!
The thoughts and feelings that ran through me as I watched strong, young, life-eager
nieces and nephews (the grandchildren) when the sale was over,
hoist furniture, tools, toys and housewares onto trailers and into vehicles
is hard to articulate...while we, mom and dad's children,
wear the ever deepening proof of years weathered,
where we are all caught in the circle of life!
So,
who'll give me a dollar for the hammer dad/grandpa swung
repairing a roof or erecting a shed
And who'll give me five for puzzles, framed and hung
over a mantle or above a bed
and who'll give me twenty for the baby-buggy quilt
hand-stitched by dear mother before ten of us
were lovingly 'shuggled' to the background 'lilt'
of life's constant clatter and chatter and fuss
and thus, with each household item auctioneered
A piece of once-upon-a-home, disappeared
in hoes, rakes and shovels, wheelbarrows, silk flowers
in table lamps, canning jars, crocks, pots and pans
farewell, mantle chime-clock that tolled quarter hours
and still will, through younger routines, dreams and plans
Farewell bureaus, blanket-chests, beds, desks and chairs
Turned into hellos by hale fellows of youth
Hello, to the pretty little girlie that stares
into her 'new' olden mirror of truth
farewell, yester-world, unfurled to heart-shaped nooks
as dishes, dolls, teddies, toy tractors and books
...were happily bid on, to reclaim and re-own
to treasure and hand down through fresh history
Sun-bonnets and quilts, by great-great-grandma sewn
And who knows what the rest of their story will be
As piece by piece, keepsakes of spent joy and strife
Will fill younger fingers of much-still-to-learn
The sequence of season, the circle of life
Forever a one way lease of no-return
where if the Lord wills, all too soon they may stand
to gaze at The Thing in the auctioneer's hand
...where stuff of love's laughter and tears do not show
where many a picture held in the mind's eye
Gleams bright in the light of a strange afterglow
Where glimmers and shimmers of echo-dust fly
as tea kettle, rocking horse, once-favourite toy
Is hoisted then handed to the highest bid
Igniting an ocean of sorrow and joy
That rushes the heart by a smiling face hid
Ah, how is it that an old, white, china goose
can such a sheer torrent of longing unloose
Well, well we would feel like The Preacher who cried
'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity'
And so it would be, without Jesus who died
To give life Direction and strife, Destiny
And purpose to moments that weave wisdom's crowns
And cheer as we press to more than now appears
In effects collected through love's ups and downs
Then packed up, and sold by silver-tongued auctioneers
As we thank the good Lord that the fullness life brings
Is not in the measure or treasure of Things
Janet Martin
Ah, how is it that an old, white, china goose
Can such a sheer torrent of longing unloose ...
Eccles 1:1-3
The words of the Preacher,[
a] the son of David, king in Jerusalem.
2 Vanity[
b] of vanities, says the Preacher,
vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
3 What does man gain by all the toil
at which he toils under the sun?
Read the whole answer starting
HERE
