Well, the sale is over and the house is empty. It makes me sad to think of the house with nothing in it. It has probably never been empty, at least since it was built. For some reason this makes me tear up and I feel so sad and imagine that the house must misse all that stuff and probably feels lonely. More tears. Then I move on to how upset all the people who lived in the house must be feeling/would be feeling if they could see it. More tears. I imagine my Grandma and how she loved that house and all those things... More tears.
And then a great moment of clarity hits.
Perhaps my grandma didn't love that house or the things in it.
I think she is/would be greatly relieved, possibly even happy, if she could see the house all clean and empty like it is now.
She never stated this out right or said much to make me think this is 100% true, but the more I think about it the more I think I am onto something. The house was not her family home, it was her Mother-In-Law's home. The house in which her husband grew up and when she moved in, her Mother-In-Law lived downstairs! I think her Mother-In-Law moved out of the upstairs to the downstairs so Grandma and Grandpa could live upstairs. I am not sure of this, but I think its true.
So she is a young bride, mother of one, two, or three little kids and she moves into a house full of stuff. Crammed with stuff. Stuff her Mother-In-Law used/loved/lived with. Stuff with history and clearly STUFF THAT MUST NOT BE MOVED. I don't think Grandma felt a lot of freedom to move things, sell things, buy new things. I am pretty sure that a new bed and a new sofa where the only big furniture items she ever purchased. I imagine she didn't feel much freedom to go through cupboards and drawers to put things away and make more space for herself.
She was constantly trying to get us to put our names on things, and even take things. All her children have lots of furniture and items from the house that she gave to them over the years.
She once told me she loved the Southwestern style and she always wanted a home decorated in that style. 717 was a far cry from Southwestern (minus the Navajo pottery).
So yeah. I think she feels relieved that it is all gone. Finally, someone did something about it and now no else has to bear the burden of so much stuff.
I still feel sad about it all being gone. I still wish we could have kept it, wish we could keep the house. But somehow thinking about my grandma possibly feeling relieved has helped.... thinking about what it must have been like for her to move into that house as a young bride, dealing with little kids and a Mother-In-Law (and an Aunt who also lived downstairs) has given me a bit of perspective and helped me not completely romanticize the house and the whole situation. After all, my experience of the house and the situation is all romanticized. I just thought it was amazing and wonderful etc. But I did not have to live there and deal with it every day.
I could be completely wrong and we will never know, but I think I might be onto something here...
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Estate Sale
The last couple of weeks, this one especially, I have been consumed with the Estate Sale. I felt the whole range of emotions, sadness, anger, despair, frustration. I couldn't believe we were selling all of the things in the house. I still can't, it brings tears just writing those words. As stated before, my fondest childhood memories are looking in boxes and closets and drawers at the house discovering something old and beautiful and lovely. It feels incredibly tough to think that I will no longer be able to do that. And to top it off, the idea that strangers would be pawing through those things, our family treasure, made my heart sink and twist and the tears would come.
Then the photos starting going up on the site and our family began to be described in a way that felt unreal and unfamiliar. Then there was the news coverage that felt violating and surreal.
Then I heard that the Denver Police Department was very excited about my great-great grandfather, Robert Yardley Force. They sent a historian to the house and he spent 4 hours at the house, looking at all the stuff we had on Robert Yardley. Apparently, he found a canceled check written by Robert for transporting a prisoner, and he was incredibly excited by this find. Its one small slip of paper in the thousands of slips of paper we have about our family and he will treasure that far more then we will. It made me excited that someone else will treasure some of our things and possibly find more meaning in them then we had found. I didn't even know my great great grandfather was a sheriff until a few months ago. And that cancelled check was just one piece of paper in a house full of such memories. The police department also sent out an officer to be at the house during the sale, in honor of Robert Yardley. I found that touching. This story helped me let go a little and hope that others would find equal excitement.
But seeing the news coverage of the actual sale was incredibly tough, the masses of people, the lines, the men just shoving things in their boxes, the ladies in line saying they were interested in the pottery. Do they know that pottery was from my grandma's grandfather? He came from Cornwall and was ordained as a minister at a very young age. He was an itinerant preacher and picked up all that pottery in his travels. I visited his family home in Cornwall with my grandma, and she always spoke so fondly of him. That pottery has story and meaning and is full of our family history. Those ladies didn't have a clue. Its heartbreaking to think that it is now gone.
Then the photos starting going up on the site and our family began to be described in a way that felt unreal and unfamiliar. Then there was the news coverage that felt violating and surreal.
Then I heard that the Denver Police Department was very excited about my great-great grandfather, Robert Yardley Force. They sent a historian to the house and he spent 4 hours at the house, looking at all the stuff we had on Robert Yardley. Apparently, he found a canceled check written by Robert for transporting a prisoner, and he was incredibly excited by this find. Its one small slip of paper in the thousands of slips of paper we have about our family and he will treasure that far more then we will. It made me excited that someone else will treasure some of our things and possibly find more meaning in them then we had found. I didn't even know my great great grandfather was a sheriff until a few months ago. And that cancelled check was just one piece of paper in a house full of such memories. The police department also sent out an officer to be at the house during the sale, in honor of Robert Yardley. I found that touching. This story helped me let go a little and hope that others would find equal excitement.
But seeing the news coverage of the actual sale was incredibly tough, the masses of people, the lines, the men just shoving things in their boxes, the ladies in line saying they were interested in the pottery. Do they know that pottery was from my grandma's grandfather? He came from Cornwall and was ordained as a minister at a very young age. He was an itinerant preacher and picked up all that pottery in his travels. I visited his family home in Cornwall with my grandma, and she always spoke so fondly of him. That pottery has story and meaning and is full of our family history. Those ladies didn't have a clue. Its heartbreaking to think that it is now gone.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
in the news
Apparently, our family home made the news. Its more like one big commercial for the estate sale, but what better way to stir interest, I suppose. http://www.9news.com/news/local/article/252981/222/Denvers-treasure-trove-for-sale
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