Feelings of mortality lie heavy on me today. I had to clear out an old lady's house . It's one of the things you occasionally get drawn into when you act as a lawyer for old people who outlive all their friends and relatives, and it's always a task you carry out with heavy heart.
There is something hugely sad about going through the cherished things of someone who has died or whose mind has gradually slipped away to the point that they can no longer live alone. You feel like a burglar, in some cold and lifeless house, raking through cherished items that are junk to you but clearly were invested with so much meaning for the absent host.
I think photographs are the worst: old black and whites; smiling men in rolled up sleeves and tank tops squinting at the camera from some seaside trip fifty years or more ago. All gone and probably almost forgotten now.
Live well my friends. Some day some stranger will empty your boxes of photographs and wonder about the laughing faces, but only for a minute or two, before he locks the door and phones the auctioneer.
Nightcap
15 years ago
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment