Thursday, November 7, 2013

Her Name Was Mary.....

She had collection of old cardboard jewelry boxes.

Some old tube type AM radios.

A few cards wishing her Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Some old metal clothes hangars ( I have never seen this type before)

A few assorted metal tins that must have contained cookies or chocolates.

Some old handmade purses that someone took the time to knit

and assorted other trinkets and things that must have meant something to her.

These were all thrown in my dumpster at work the other day by someone in a tan
Ford Explorer.

The people in the Ford must have been cleaning out one of the storage units nearby.

I did some research and found two obituaries that matched the full 
name and town that was written on the cards.

There were two that I found, one of the "Mary's" passed in 2009, the other in 2004.

 They were both in their late 80's.


  1. After I'm long gone, I would hope someone would be kind enough to take the time to find out who I was.

  2. That's it right there. Everything in a nutshell.
    How meaningless each of our lives actually are.
    Just some junk in a dumpster - and then it's like we never were.

  3. LOL...
    Hear! Hear! Timbo...
    I guess all we are is what we teach others to carry on...
    Back In me teens and early 20s I bought me an awesome old guitar that I kept forever... Never played it though... Just to precious, beautiful... PLayed other Guitars but not that one..
    Last year I picked it up finally, tune it and started playing it... It doesn't sound bad at all... Not sure why waited so long to treasure a junk... with the new tech in building guitars from Yamaha and Jasmine, It is worthless to most folks... A junk...
    Yet sounds like a treasure to some/one...

  4. Once our grandkids are gone, so are any memories of us. Time is so fleeting.

  5. Just Think!
    Just think! some night the stars will gleam
    Upon a cold, grey stone,
    And trace a name with silver beam,
    And lo! ’twill be your own.

    That night is speeding on to greet
    Your epitaphic rhyme.
    Your life is but a little beat
    Within the heart of Time.

    A little gain, a little pain,
    A laugh, lest you may moan;
    A little blame, a little fame,
    A star-gleam on a stone.


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