Farewell, old friend

My in-laws had a garage sale the other day. Personally, I'm not big into garage sales, but I'm also not opposed to getting junk out of my house, so the Hub, Daredevil, Drama Princess and I scoured our respective spaces for any trash we thought someone else might consider treasure.

Turns out we didn't have much. Oh, there's no shortage of useless stuff in our house. We just didn't have much that we thought anyone would be interested in.

So we hauled it all over to the folks' house early Saturday morning, and helped them set up card tables and boards atop sawhorses in the driveway. We arranged attractive displays of our merchandise, checked our supply of cash to be used for change, pressed a couple of lawn chairs into service, and sat down to wait for the crowds we just knew would be flocking to our transitory emporium.

It was a long day.

Like I said, I'm not really into garage sales, so I have no idea what I was expecting, but I'm pretty sure I thought we'd have to break up fights over the picture frames and holiday wreaths. I was convinced that at least two bodybuilder types would duke it out over the NordicTrack or the antique weight bench. No doubt one of Martha Stewart's faithful followers would find a use for the framed mirror or the practically-brand-new drapes.

Didn't happen.

I wasn't too worried about it. After all, we didn't want this stuff, so we shouldn't be too upset that no one else wanted it. I was completely okay with sitting on the edge and merely watching the whole thing, until a man put Daredevil's cello into the trunk of his car.

Daredevil had acquired that cello when he was in the fifth grade and decided he wanted to join the school orchestra and play cello, like a certain girl in his class. With a little help from the school district, we unearthed a somewhat battered cello. Not much to look at, but it was in pretty good shape and sounded okay, so Daredevil was all set.

He lasted two years. Maybe three--I really can't remember if he stuck with it in seventh grade. But once he decided he didn't like that girl any more, he also decided he was no longer interested in the cello, so it sat in his room, untouched, for something like four years. I didn't say anything when he decided to put it in the garage sale, but inside I was all mom-sad. I'm a singer and a lover of music, and I was really hoping there was a budding Yo Yo Ma in my boy. Not so much. So, I couldn't really protest when he decided to get rid of it.

But it was like watching a little piece of his childhood disappear when that trunk lid closed. I wasn't surprised to find my vision all blurred at that moment.

Daredevil got the proceeds of this sale, which was the agreement. My little heartbreak wasn't part of that agreement, but I have hope that wherever that cello has gone, there is a young musician filling his parents' hearts with pride in their own Yo Yo Ma. I hope he sticks with it.