I enjoy going to antique malls and just looking at things from the past. I like to see what people value and what is easily sold for a dollar. I am always amazed when I walk by a box of old photos and see people who no longer matter to anyone. They are nameless, as a rule, old in particular and they once lived some sort of life.
There was a time when their existence mattered to someone, or at least I hope it did. The lady in the above picture, would not let me leave her in the box. I picked the picture up and was amazed at her beauty, her clothes.
Her frame was metal and had been painted brown. It was chipped in all sorts of places. The hanger for the picture was a paper clip. When I took the picture out of the frame, I discovered it was a cutting from an old newspaper. Crumbling in my hands I very carefully placed her back in her frame. I had all sorts of stories run through my mind. I finally decided that she was some sort of movie star or a model of some sorts. Judging by her clothes and also by the "racy" picture on the back of her page!! She definitely had an affect on someone. Whatever her story, she has a place in my home. I hope she will be happy.
I continued to rummage around until another photo caught my eye. It was very old and seemed to speak volumes of whispers that I could not understand.
These pictures "talk" to me. I have no reasonable use for them. I don't know who they were, what they were, but I just feel sorry for them, because they no longer matter to family or friends. They are lost and sold for a pittance of change. They lived, breathed, loved, worked, made some contribution to the world and then died. Somewhere along the way, their story became lost.
It is not just a few pictures that I find, but boxes of them. Along with bits and pieces of their life---perhaps. At one antique" cubby" I found an old handmade quilt, a Singer treadle sewing machine, doilies that were crocheted and this picture of three women.
It was probably made around the turn of the century judging from their clothes and hair styles. They are very pretty young women and resemble quite a bit. I would say they are either Mother and 2 daughters or 3 sisters. I wonder if the things I was rummaging through belonged to them? Maybe they did. I wondered why these things were pitched. I know we can't keep everything that belonged to our ancestors. Life goes on and we have to make room for other lives. How do people decide what to keep and what is disposable? I wonder what mattered to these 3 ladies and if they feel forgotten?
When my mother died, we had to go through her belongings. We had to decide what to keep and what to give away. Things were given to family members and friends. Some things had to be discarded. Pictures were divided up among us, but not one photo of her was thrown away. Hopefully they will be passed on to other generations who never got the chance to know her, along with her story.
I hope her story lives on too. She was quite a lady. It is not easy disposing of the possessions of some one's life. It never feels "Right". However wrong is feels, it is still necessary to do. It is all part of life and death. Memories are so easily lost, perhaps we who still live, need to be a little more careful with someone else's life.
So now I have a new hobby. I bring home lost people and I tell their stories. The stories may not be exactly true, but it is what I see and hear when I look at their photos. Somehow I think they would approve, after all, they are the ones who wanted to come home with me ---for some reason.
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