The Estate Sale was Grueling

"I'm sorry for your loss", one woman said on her way out the front door, her arms loaded with my parents' belongings.  It was a weird, emotional experience.  I don't even understand all the feelings that were raging through my mind.
I know we need to clean out all the stuff.
I know it needs to be done.
I know a lot of things, but it doesn't mean I feel them.
In a very real way, I felt raped, pulled over the coals, dragged through the mud.
People were standing on the front lawn when Bob and I arrived, a half hour before the advertised opening time.  When we unlocked the front door, there was a literal stampede.  One woman raced from room to room, her eyes hungrily scanning up and down and all around each room as she pushed past me onto the next.  Even though I had been warned about it, the reality was something else altogether.  I was literally an Estate Sale virgin - naive and innocent. And, although  I wanted to sell things, at the same time I resented the people when they took my father and mother away piece by piece.  They took my father's Jesus, the Jesus that watched over him as he lay dying.  The Jesus that stood guard in our living room in Brooklyn for as long as I can remember.
I tried to explain what certain items meant and why they were so important and worthy of respect and honor and instead I heard back from so many,  "Is that the best price you can give me?"   This bargaining cuts deeply when you know these things were my father and mother's treasures.  And yet, at other moments, I felt angry with my father that all this stuff was left for me to deal with.  But at the same time, I can't believe it was left as a  punishment for me.  I have to believe he did not know what he was doing.  As human beings we all do things that cause our loved ones heartache, and pain. I am sure I do this all the time, without even realizing it.  I am doing it now with my own vast collection of junk.  I have to pray for the ability to let go.  I do not want to leave such a mess for my kids.
And truthfully, I did appreciate the woman who said, "I'm sorry for your loss".   I will always remember her thoughtfulness in the midst of chaos and confusion.