I was at an estate sale today where they were selling disposable underwear. And before you think that means something the least bit exciting...think again. Think of diapers for adults. Grandpa had died. I knew it from the small cross-stiched picture, "Grandfather means experienced father." And from the cookbooks... that start off in BBQing and end in the "Cooking for Diabetes." And that special bed pan sitting chair and the disposable underwear. I couldn't help feel a twinge of sadness over the box of received greeting cards and the unused car fluids that his son said he was trying to sell at one point in his life. Here I was a stranger, wandering through his home, touching his or their old things. His family was getting rid of everything for a song... and maybe his treasure can live on in a piece of my mail art or collage art.
In the end we will all be recycled... if not by worms in the soil then by strangers dollars at an estate sale and then lastly laid to rest on a burn pile or dump heap. The most we can do is to love now cause none of the stuff matters.