I know all of you are wondering about this title. The SAD task of choosing vintage clothing? Why would it be sad? Well.....let me tell you about last week...
My husband Clayton and I were called to a home about 4 hours away...we got there very late and very tired. (it was after work) The gentleman that called was in his 90's and his wife had just passed away 1 month previous. He invited us to his home to look at her things, hopefully make a few dollars as he had incurred many expenses to keep her at home in her last years.
When we walked in, I noticed that the home was very sparse. He told me he had been selling off his antique furniture and wall hangings to pay medical bills. As he took me to the room that had a large cedar closet I was reminded of going through my great aunts things after she had passed. Going through my grandmother's things when she had passed...going through my father's things.....and remembering all the wonderful memories and all the happiness and all the pain.
He sat in a chair and Clayton was standing there ready to receive the things that I chose. I looked at the man, (I'll call him T)....and I asked him, where did she wear this funky skirt? and his eyes lit up..and he told a story. And we laughed. And so began the ritual. I asked the question and he told the story. All of a sudden the pain was gone and laughter made it go away. This went on for about an hour and a half. We became bonded. Bound by the stories of his wife who was talented, smart and funny. She died simply of old age. He was talking to her and she was belly laughing and then all of a sudden she died. What a great way to go! But we are NEVER ready to lose our spouses, or anyone that we love. When we left there, I hugged him really hard. I told him to keep in touch. Call me, or write a letter ( I love to write letters) But I don't think that will happen. As I said, he is in his 90's, bad eyesight, poor walking ability, doesn't drive. He gave me one of her knick knacks.
On the way home, I looked at my husband and I said...'if you got sick, I want to be the one to take care of you, because I love you so, and no one will take care of you like me.' He said the same...and we held hands and drove home in silence. At the end of our life, what is left? A few pieces of clothing and some knick knacks. Everything you own doesn't mean anything, only the love remains. Clayton and I are blessed that we have the task of reviving antique clothing...we also revive the stories that are passed with them. Because in passing the story that T told us, his wife remains alive in memory. So, whoever buys that funky skirt, will be told the story of a woman in 1960 who wore it to a house party and pigged out on the fondue pot and got horribly sick. Now someone else can go to a party in that cool skirt....and have fun, just like T's wife.... and now SHE will create a new memory. And life goes on.....................................
My husband Clayton and I were called to a home about 4 hours away...we got there very late and very tired. (it was after work) The gentleman that called was in his 90's and his wife had just passed away 1 month previous. He invited us to his home to look at her things, hopefully make a few dollars as he had incurred many expenses to keep her at home in her last years.
When we walked in, I noticed that the home was very sparse. He told me he had been selling off his antique furniture and wall hangings to pay medical bills. As he took me to the room that had a large cedar closet I was reminded of going through my great aunts things after she had passed. Going through my grandmother's things when she had passed...going through my father's things.....and remembering all the wonderful memories and all the happiness and all the pain.
He sat in a chair and Clayton was standing there ready to receive the things that I chose. I looked at the man, (I'll call him T)....and I asked him, where did she wear this funky skirt? and his eyes lit up..and he told a story. And we laughed. And so began the ritual. I asked the question and he told the story. All of a sudden the pain was gone and laughter made it go away. This went on for about an hour and a half. We became bonded. Bound by the stories of his wife who was talented, smart and funny. She died simply of old age. He was talking to her and she was belly laughing and then all of a sudden she died. What a great way to go! But we are NEVER ready to lose our spouses, or anyone that we love. When we left there, I hugged him really hard. I told him to keep in touch. Call me, or write a letter ( I love to write letters) But I don't think that will happen. As I said, he is in his 90's, bad eyesight, poor walking ability, doesn't drive. He gave me one of her knick knacks.
On the way home, I looked at my husband and I said...'if you got sick, I want to be the one to take care of you, because I love you so, and no one will take care of you like me.' He said the same...and we held hands and drove home in silence. At the end of our life, what is left? A few pieces of clothing and some knick knacks. Everything you own doesn't mean anything, only the love remains. Clayton and I are blessed that we have the task of reviving antique clothing...we also revive the stories that are passed with them. Because in passing the story that T told us, his wife remains alive in memory. So, whoever buys that funky skirt, will be told the story of a woman in 1960 who wore it to a house party and pigged out on the fondue pot and got horribly sick. Now someone else can go to a party in that cool skirt....and have fun, just like T's wife.... and now SHE will create a new memory. And life goes on.....................................
Rose Ellen Moore
www.rcmooreunique.com
1729 W Tilghman Street
Allentown PA 18104
610-740-3820
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