30 Mar News from Experienced Goods April 2021

Vintage pillow at the shop

by Jennie Reichman

I recently had something stolen from my home. I won’t go into great detail here, but it was something I use every day, that I enjoy, and that was worth about $50. I have an idea of who may have taken it, but I cannot prove it, and after making a report to the police so the theft is on record, I decided to not pursue anything further. At first I thought I had misplaced it, but after several days of thorough searching (including dumping out and digging through a bag of trash it could have fallen into), I realized that the person I suspect of taking this object had the perfect opportunity and probably acted on that impulse. Even though this thing was replaceable, I was left with feelings of violation, anger and loss. That someone had disrupted the peace and balance of my home by stealing from me, that he/she did not consider how that act would affect me and change my perspective permanently, that I second-guessed my intuition for several days while I searched, and that this object that was once mine was now somewhere else entirely. It might seem silly to grieve for a small, relatively inexpensive possession, but I did. In reality, I think I grieved more for the sense of safety and security I always feel in my home that now had a dent in it. A perception had been shattered, and that was not replaceable.

By definition, Brattleboro Area Hospice is in the business of loss. Providing support and comfort to terminally ill people and their loved ones as they navigate the transition that is the end of life, offering counseling and resources for grieving families and friends, teaching people how to prepare for the end of life so that the burden of decisions and legalities is light, leaving more energy for the important work of saying goodbye and letting go. At Experienced Goods, even though we are immersed in the bustling, playful energy of running a thrift store and interacting with shoppers and donors, we are all very aware of the organization we are supporting and the immeasurable value of Hospice work. It always affects me deeply when I answer the phone and the person on the other end is someone whose spouse, parent or other loved one has died and the caller wants to donate that person’s clothes or household goods to Hospice. Usually this is because Hospice was instrumental in making the loved one’s end of life peaceful in the familiar surroundings of their home.

I take a deep breath and offer the caller condolences for their loss, leave a little space for words or no words, as the case may be. In that space I often hear about the closet full of clothes or the teddy bear collection or the carefully maintained woodworking tools or the shelves of books or the artwork collected over a lifetime of travel. At Experienced Goods we offer a place for the physical evidence of a life lived to become a part of other lives. Maybe the donors who have lost their loved ones will feel their grief ease a little knowing this.

I also think about my own collection of objects: musical instruments, books, a sizeable fabric and yarn stash, kitchen equipment and cookbooks, way too many clothes. The thought of someone having to sift through all this stuff after I am dead is a little horrifying, so I try to regularly go through and cull out a few things to bring to the shop so that what I keep in my house is stuff I actually use. Some things are easy to let go of (Why did I buy that battery operated whisk?) and some things have an insistent pull of sentiment and memory attached to them, like a jacket my mother made or my college textbooks.

People live on in their objects though, sometimes in surprising ways. A few years ago a relative of Karen’s passed away and many of her possessions came to Experienced Goods, a wonderful collection of bold, kitschy 60s and 70s furniture, art and clothing. It felt like we were honoring her eclectic taste and unique style by passing her things on to new owners who fell in love with these “vintage” finds. When something fun from that era comes in to the shop, we still say, “That looks like it came from Dottie’s house!”

I have replaced the thing that was stolen from my house and have largely put the whole incident behind me. In a strange way, it has been a reminder to me to not become acclimated to loss, especially death. This past year has been one of mind-numbing statistics, numbers we could not have imagined, and I don’t want to become inured to that. In any way we can, we at Experienced Goods are trying to create a space where loss can be felt and honored, and then perhaps released.