[dropcap custom_class="normal"] W[/dropcap]hile one of the best ways to pick up vintage finds, estate sales tend to turn me melancholy. In order for there to be an estate sale, most likely someone has died. And knowing that deals can be had, people sometimes rush them, pushing and shoving and grabbing a myriad of former belongings, haggling for the lowest price.
Today I walked into an estate sale, wandered the home (which was an adorable Victorian two-story), noticed the familiar twinges of sadness in my heart, and ended up in the library ... where I felt an immediate sense of connection to the person or persons who had passed.
I cannot tell you how many titles on those well-stocked shelves I had either read, currently or formerly owned, or wanted to read. Everything from novels by James Michener to poetry by Emily Dickinson (to the Hunger Games triology!) to books on living in the moment and meditation.
I did not know this person — his or her gender, history or life story — and yet, I knew we knew one another through those shared readings.
I am so grateful to have had that moment. To have had an opportunity to share space in this manner with another. And to know deep in my cells, once again, that we are all connected in so many different ways.