30 Aug September at Experienced Goods
By Jennie Reichman
I had the opportunity recently to travel somewhere I’d never been, a place not necessarily on my bucket list and that I’d not given much thought to: Annapolis, Maryland. My longtime friend Carol’s sister Cathi (who lived in Annapolis with her husband Robin) passed away last October and her memorial service was in early August. Cathi and Robin lived in Boulder, Colorado when I lived there, and we became friends; they were also hugely supportive of my musical performances there, coming to many gigs and cheering me on. Robin asked me to sing at Cathi’s memorial, and of course I said yes.
Many aspects of this trip were out of my comfort zone: Driving eight hours through crazy metropolitan traffic, spending lots of intense, emotional time with Carol’s big family (5 siblings, their spouses, kids and grandkids), singing beautiful songs for people who were grieving without dissolving into tears myself. Luckily Carol’s family members all get along well, love each other, and communicate like pros, so the drama was minimal and over 4 days I got to witness a family celebrating the life of a beloved sister with stories, meals, outings and a lot of hugging. In the end, I was informed that I am now an honorary member of their family; this orphaned only child got to experience the welcoming embrace of the tribe.
In contrast, coming back to work after five days away felt wonderfully familiar. In no time I slipped back into the routine of my days at Experienced Goods: Sorting, hanging, tagging and pricing clothes, keeping the sales floor tidy and attractive, working at the cash register and helping customers. Planning with my co-workers the transition from summer to fall, from shorts, bathing suits and sandals to sweaters, jackets and boots. If Annapolis was out of my comfort zone, Experienced Goods is solidly in the middle of it. Even though we are constantly re-imagining the look and feel of the shop to keep it interesting, there is much that stays the same, and I think customers often appreciate that. I sometimes think I can see the tension leave people’s faces when they walk in, grab a basket and start shopping. They know where to look for their favorite items, and that an unexpected treasure might be hiding among all that familiarity. So to that end, there’s not a lot that’s new to report from the shop, and that’s a positive thing. We keep the Experienced Goods machine humming along by being good at our jobs and loving the place where we do them, even when it’s the same old same old.
Labor Day is tomorrow, fall is fast approaching, leaves are turning, crickets are singing late summer choruses, change and transition are constant and endless, but it’s often routine and the familiar that ground us and help us cope. As I saw with Carol’s family, many of whom traveled across the country to come to the memorial, in times of grief or disruption, it’s the people and places we know best and trust the most that help us carry on. I hope in some small way Experienced Goods is that for our customers and donors; it definitely is for us who work there. May this be one of those stunningly beautiful Vermont autumns, and may we all remember: It’s good to be home.