Dead Memories

This past weekend I went to visit my mom and had the chance to see my aunt, uncle, cousins, and first cousins once-removed (learned the difference between these kinds of cousins and the second cousins), cousin's girlfriend and cousin's husband (no, not the same cousin-haha, a little sick humor there. anyway...)

Recently, my great-aunt died, so most of us drove over to her house to see if there was anything we would like to have before the estate sale.

I myself got two pieces of furniture, a book (love it!), a French perfume bottle, and a bowl with lid.

I have been in houses of the dead before. We had a family call our church after the estate sale to give us whatever we wanted for our church yard sale. I went along to help pack up the merchandise. Not a problem.

This, however, felt weird. I felt guilty, no, that's not the right word. Maybe it just saddened me that this was what remained of a woman's life, 90 plus years. I had a thought from a scene in A Christmas Carol by Dickens. It's the fourth scene in Act II. The Ghost of Christmas Future is with Scrooge, and they are in Scrooge's house watching four people go through and bargin over his things while he lies dead in his bed. I was trying to tell myself that I shouldn't feel however I was feeling (guilty?) - that I wanted something of Aunt K*** things to remind me of her. But why? I didn't grow up around her; I didn't hear positive things about her; I only spoke to her once a year at our family reunions. Why would I want to be reminded of her? Is it a past which I'm trying to connect? Am I finding a "deal"? Do I have more of a right to it than a stranger?

But then again, I, too, am a stranger-in a sense.

And yet, I forgot to get that small, white bowl and pitcher that I saw, and I do want one of those cast iron pots...