Saturday, September 15, 2012

Selling Grandma's Stuff

 I never was one to pass judgement on the neighbors.

Until today.

When the folks across the street gave their recently-departed good reason to roll over in her grave.

Now tell me. .  . two months ago, as her loving family kept vigil in the living room and Grandma lay there oh-so-slowly passing into the life hereafter. . .  do you think that she envisioned a day when a sign on her lawn would read:  HOSPITAL BED.  LIKE NEW! $600

And do you think they timed her usage of said bed?  Do you think they studied their watches and said. . . Well, if she passes in the next half-hour it will be less than 24 hours of wear-and-tear.  I dare say this bed will be like. . .well like. . . BRANDY NEW!!!  (And don't you think they weren't second-guessing their overly-optimistic decision to purchase, rather than rent, the bed in the first place?)

Let's face it. . . wouldn't Grandma have shuddered at the thought all of her life's treasures out on the front lawn for others to snatch up?  Her chotchkies displayed for vultures to paw through?  Her clothing now a bargain for those nature had endowed large enough to wear?

Could she ever - even with the prescience which sometimes arrives at death's door - imagine her loved ones selling her wheelchair out from under her?  Her walker with tennis balls still attached?  Her "big-girl" geriatric port-a-potty when she was barely cold in her grave???

Now here's a little tip for you, neighbors . . . You may be trying to hide it from your customers, but the unfortunate life-event which prompted your HUGE SALE!  is painfully apparent to even the most casual observer (like moi!)

Yes, it is abundantly clear that one rather-large woman with an Imelda Marcos-sized appetite for purple pumps and a peculiar proclivity for purchasing polyester pantsuits suffered a physical decline in that house. . . that she deteriorated through the various cane-walker-and-wheelchair stages and was forced to suffer the ultimate indignity of having the bathroom brought to her until - at last - she peacefully passed away in that bed that is now suddenly LIKE NEW!

Now can I ask you.  . .  Just who you think is going to dance on her grave by purchasing a pair of those gaudy pumps??? 

Oh tacky, tacky neighbors!

Have you no respect for your dearly departed?

And wouldn't a sign which read, ESTATE SALE! be a little more palatable?  Or perhaps:  BUYER BEWARE!?!?

May Grandma rest in peace,
despite the bad taste of her loved ones. . .