In just a few hours over the past two days we watched an entire household be sold for next to nothing. Our next door neighbor Anita, a 95-year-old workhorse who months ago became suddenly disabled, was placed in an acute assisted living facility and now has no idea that her home no longer belongs to her. Her sons had no choice but to sell the house and its contents, as she can no longer live independently.
Items that many of us would have long ago thrown into the garbage were displayed on tables in front of her house. We saw people stop their cars after they spotted a coffee pot, fishing rods, tools or many of what we would call “tchotchkes.”
Most sad to us was that Anita was a seamstress. We would often see cars in her driveway, her clients bringing her ideas for dresses to be created or fixed, pants to be hemmed etc. There, on display along with everything else, waiting for a buyer, was her cherished sewing machine that she had spent so many loving hours with. In a sense it was painful to watch. It was sold, and we hope that the person will respect it and make good use of it, as Anita did.
We learned from observing this that if you advertise on Craigslist, which is how this sale was promoted, shoppers will come. We also used this as a painful reminder that what is in a house is only “stuff.” It counts for very little. Family members generally want very few of the remnants of what glued a family together for many years. Anita once proudly showed me her late husband’s Purple Heart. I reminded one of her sons that prior to having people walk through each room he should make sure to remove the recognition of the bravery that his father showed during the Second World War. Fortunately he had done so.
We have thought of this so many times in the past. What we are holding on to because it evokes such wonderful memories or has great significance to us will have little sentiment to our children. Letters that our grandchildren wrote us years ago thanking us for the fun they had in Montreal while visiting are totally worthless to anyone but us. Who is ever going to care about Nina’s parents’ honeymoon receipt from the Claridge Hotel? Who will want our diplomas from high school and college? Something as important as a teudah of semicha, a graduate diploma, will mean nothing to anyone but us. Truthfully, when do we even look at such things?
Seeing an entire household out in a driveway and on the sidewalk was a rude awakening regarding what will happen to all of us one day. It does not only happen when someone passes away. It can be caused by divorce or relocation or hopefully from a more positive experience like when a family makes aliyah. Isn’t it a wake-up call that things are nothing but things? Many of us put considerable time and effort into finding just the right lamp, couch, table, comforter cover or cutting board. One day we realize that only the effort that we put into building characters and sharing proper midot with our family members and ourselves is what will really be remembered. No one is going to remember whether or not the lamp on the table matched the color scheme of the living room. In fact, one day that lamp will probably be out in the driveway waiting for someone to drive up and snatch it for $1.
In life we learn lessons by observing others, and sometimes (in the case of one female member of this duo) it takes longer to follow through with the painful pursuit of clearing drawers and files. Maybe we owe Anita more than just our gratitude for the fact that she always took care of our mail when we went to Montreal and made sure that there were no newspapers left in our driveway!
By Rabbi Mordechai and Nina Glick
