Treasure Hunt

It's never easy to pack up fond memories

Cheryl-Anne Millsap

(File/The Spokesman-Review)

It comes and it goes. Those of us who like to look at, and all too often bring home, things we've picked up at antique shops and flea markets know this well.

We see it, have to have it and we get it. Then, when space becomes an issue or our affection for the object wanders, we let it go.

Not too long ago, getting ready for big changes in my own life, I called an acquaintance. Someone who happens to be an antiques dealer.

"It's all got to go," I said, opening the garage door. "I mean it. Everything."

I'd filled the space with things that had no place in my new life.

With a shopping buddy to help her load it all up, she backed up to the garage filled her truck with my stuff and drove away. I stood there looking at all the empty space and expected to feel a little sad about some of the things I'd said goodbye to. I waited. And waited. But ... nothing.

Gone was the ornate old iron and brass bed I'd talked a dealer into selling and carried around with me for years. I never thought I'd be ready to get rid of it. So was the heavy bookcase I'd never quite been able to fit in the house. And the table that had been stored for years. Other things, boxes of linens and fabrics, dishes I'd picked up from shops around the country, old books and magazines, vintage suitcases and miscellaneous odds and ends, had gone with her as well. And I felt nothing but relief.

It was time.

I'm sure that some of my old things have already found new homes. I know I'll see other pieces in shops around town for quite a while. Who knows, one day I may walk into the home of a friend and see a familiar treasure in the corner of a room. It's happened to me before.

Change, even when it frightens us and takes us out of the comfortable – or reliably uncomfortable – familiar, can be good. It frees us and gives us room to think and move forward.

I like the idea that what was once mine might eventually be yours. And, because I know myself well enough to believe I won't be able to stay away from the shops and markets for long. When I'm ready, what was once yours might one day find a home with me.