The true past departs not;
no truth or goodness realized by man ever dies, or can die;
but all is still here, and, recognized or not,
lives and works through endless changes.
Our past may sometimes get put on a shelf or tucked away and forgotten. This could mean, in our minds, or physically set somewhere long ago. Sometimes a scent, a sound or a piece of something found, may bring those stories attached back to where you will once again relive them in your mind.
This is a very common occurrence at auction sales. There are many triggers set off for people during auction sales. For the family whose auction it is, and for those of us who attend the auction. Something will undoubtedly trigger a memory or a story in most people’s minds. They may be all very different memories. Or like me, they will trigger my imagination.
It will come as no secret to my regular readers that My Hero and I attend many auctions. Lately, I have been avoiding them for many reasons but honestly; how many ladders and sets of tools does a girl need to see?
Right this very moment, while I sit in the truck I watch My Hero and Dios with those predictable smiles stand in the crowd while I write this story. They stand in the middle of a bundled-up crowd, while I sit with a cup of tea snuggled under a warm blanket and write. I think I may have the best part of this on this cold blustery day.
I have just come back from the usual walk about to see what was for sale. Whether there was anyone I recognized here, and most importantly, if there were any stories triggered by those things I saw.
There were many tools on many tables and just that alone had me know it was going to be a long stay in the truck for me. I walked over to the old grey-planked barn. It is no secret to anyone that I have a soft spot for those old barns. All barns are full of stories. Like many of us as we age most memories become foggy or forgotten altogether. This was the case of a woman I met who actually grew up here. Those of us who attend the auction, like me, only have our imaginations to what stories lie within.
The past was certainly apparent. It had been set away and possibly forgotten by all the people who live or lived here. It is very true triggers can be set off by the sight of things you had forgotten about. Those wonderful family stories will hopefully be passed on to the next generation. I want to believe that they are still in the minds of someone who remembers. This leaves outsiders, like all of us to use our imaginations.
We all I am sure can use our own imaginations as to what these forgotten stories are. I do believe that the bush will eventually completely hide these triggers and the stories attached. What do you think?