My youngest is a bit of an entrepreneur.
He wanted to have a garage sale and so – this morning, my husband and I obliged him. We did not have to wake him up, we did not have to help him set things up. We did not have to remind him that he needed a float to make change. We did not need to remind him to greet and thank his potential customers. He was professional. He drove an honest bargain. He did not hesitate.
When his goods were getting low, though, I thought I might cruise around the house to see what knick-knacks I could help him out with to offer at the sale. I walked up to the blue vase (the one of such controversy in former posts). I looked away and found a couple flower pots. Out they went.
I looked around again, and spotted the second samovar which Mom had been so disappointed I had found at a sale all on my own. “Why did you want another samovar?”, she querried almost hurt by the fact that her samovar, brought back from Russia during the Cold War by her brother, was the only one in existance and a precious family heriloom.
“I thought it was cool, Mom.”, I replied – not knowing the full on-slaught of guilted consequences was about to ensue.
Out went the second samovar – sold!
I walked back inside and past the blue vase again. Oh, what to do with it? It was collecting dust. I have a photo of it – I have written a post about it – I have old photos with Mom and Dad drinking from it… what’s next. Down from the shelf it came.
Out it went.
“How much do you want for this?” inquired one garage-saler.
“Well, I have to tell you a story about it before I tell you the price.”, I announced. And then I launched into my tale of how my Mom loved it and how it had been a gift upon her retirement. I really did not know the value monetarily – but I know to my mom it was of great sentimental value.
Lately I have realized that it is okay to have your own sentiments and that it is not important to carry someone else’s value. The load can become far too heavy over time.
“So, how much do you want for it?”, she asked again.
“Sold!”, I announced. But don’t forget the story!
And off they went – and my son was $2.00 richer and I was 200 pounds of sentimental luggage lighter.
The blue vase – has moved on to a loving home.