A few weeks ago my husband and I decided to have a yard sale at our old home. Because of this we left our dinning room table at the old house to use during the sale.
After a few hours of rain and very few visitors we decided that the yard sale was a bust and we loaded up the remaining items, (read, unwanted junk) to take to the salvation army.
We put a “free” sign on our couch, and called it a day.
Our table was still there, under the car porch, but we needed another adult body to help us lift it. So, we ran our junk to Goodwill, found someone to help us lift, returned to the house, and discovered that our table was gone…
Full on stolen.
In our thief’s defense, there was a free sign on the couch, which was on the street,
BUT the table was no where near the street,
and it was heavy…
So. . .someone must have really needed it.
I’m mostly ok with this.
But here’s the thing: I have a lot of beautiful memories of that table.
First, it was a wedding gift from our pastor in New Mexico.
It was where we signed our marriage license, a few months late, but we got around to it.
It was where our first pet, Hiya, lived and died.
8 and 1/2 years of marriage shared with that table,
Hosting friends, having talks, shredding tears.
Like I said, I wasn’t upset when we discovered our table had been stolen. But, the more I think about it the more I am going to miss that table.
It had a large pink stain on it from some home-maid flubber.
It was covered in crayon marks and it had a burn streak from the light shinning through our Hiya’s bowl.
It was far from perfect, but it was ours and I will miss it.
I assume that the folks who took our table needed it, and I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they didn’t realize that it wasn’t free.
We can’t currently afford a new table, so in the mean time we are enjoying all our meals outside.
And there isn’t a better time of the year to have your table stolen.
I’ll consider us lucky.