Time May Heal

For years after the devastating Alabaugh Fire of 2007 in which we lost most of our possessions and home, Bob and I stopped going to auctions. In my first book, A (not so) Simple Life, I wrote a chapter about auctions and my addictions to them. Bob and I had furnished much of our house with antiques purchased at auctions. Attending them had been a refreshing break for Bob from his work of building our retirement home.

Then came the fire that wiped out that very special "off the grid" house and Bob lost all enthusiasm for auctions. When I would coax him with an ad announcing one he would say, "I lost patience for them". And, indeed, if we did go to one on occasion, we left within a few minutes.

Last week there was an auction two blocks from our house. The sign outside was difficult to ignore as we passed it every day. On the day of the event we stopped for a few minutes, and, to no surprise, we left after a brief scan of the items. I had business to attend to and when I came home later Bob was not there.

It was late when he came home. He hitched the trailer to the car and disappeared again. A short time later he returned. The trailer was filled with several items, one of which was a lawn mower. It was obvious that he had gone back to the auction.

The next day Bob was out mowing the lawn. It looked especially nice. "Why did you get a lawn mower?" I asked. "You already have two."

It turned out that this was a special mower and quite new. It not only mowed, but it mulched the leaves and grass. No more raking and the mulch was good for the grass! As usual, Bob had looked for some deals and had managed to snag a few. Some of his auction patience had returned. Shock after any trauma has long-term effects, but, in time, some of the small joys in life do return. I have seen it in both of us, and for that I am grateful.