Someone Who Died -Once Upon A Time - Cherished the Antiques You Have Now in Your Possession - So Think About Both Providence and Provenance

Birch Hollow photo by Suzanne Currie

 

    I have never been disrespectful to the deceased. I am entirely reverent of their respective lives, if I've known them or simply known of them, and I suppose becoming a funeral director might have made sense with my interest in those who have departed this mortal coil. I've always been fascinated by the funerary profession, but mostly in the historical identity, and character, such as the undertaker profiled by author Charles Dickens in his book, "A Christmas Carol." That was fiction of course, and there are obviously not many parallels to the actuality of the present role of funeral directors and their clientele. But as it relates to the deceased, and their possessions, well, antique dealers are often by profession the soon-to-be stewards and curators of some pretty interesting heirloom pieces. And yes, for some of the older antiques, dating back centuries, it can inspire some unspecified awe, knowing that these protected articles and artifacts had been protected and conserved by a wide variety of family characters and others, who assumed ownership at some point of each bit of history passed down by numerous estates through wills, public auction, and through an assortment of antique dealers as far back as Dickens own time. As Scrooge inherited the meagre possessions of his former business partner Jacob Marley, including Marley's ghost who visited the old curmudgeon on the cusp of Christmas Day.

     It is a situation I experienced as a wide-eyed twenty year old, having a reasonable understanding of history, and antiquity, when I first began visiting estate clear-out and estate auctions, where the possessions of the newly deceased were being dispersed by family. Family, by the way, that had already taken the items of personal interest, leaving the rest to raise funds for the estate of which they probably would benefit when it was settled. I can remember being left in areas of the subject house, where the deceased had spent much of their respective life, and possibly having inherited the house themselves from parents or grandparents, giving most definitely an "occupied" feeling about the place. Why would anyone feel that was strange or extraordinary. There was always a "haunted" feeling to these places and an aura of unhappiness with the mission of cleaning out a lifetime's clutter, including the really nice antique pieces, that were often obscured by more contemporary inclusions of minor value.

     It is not as if the former owner's ghost hovers about the remnants of his or her life, going from room to room, while antique dealers and collectors paw through the myriad of former possessions, some more dearly appreciated by the departed. But for those of us who don't dismiss the paranormal casually, and are admittedly sensitive to any strange intervention, or curious vibe, understand that whether ghosts are real or not, it is better to ere on the side of caution, and tread carefully on the leftover emotions that may still be bouncing off the walls in the residence. I've had many ghostly experiences, or what I would better reference as paranormal intrusions, where a room has become almost instantly oppressive and sad, with a companion perfume scent, that had no known source. Even though I might not have scene a mysterious glow or witness a white vapor floating across the room, the feeling that someone was watching your every move was characteristic of these visits, which, by the way, I didn't really enjoy as a antique dealer trying to stock up on inventory for our shop. I know if my family was getting rid of my stuff after I had departed the living, and I had the opportunity to haunt the old digs as a heavenly option, I can guarantee I would try just about anything to kick my competitors in life, right back out the door, ghostly foot imprint on their backsides. No kidding. I would be pissed, if a ghost can get that mad. I'm not sure about that, but time will tell. I've got a lot things to get rid of, and my family knows there is a right way, and wrong way to disperse my earthly possessions.

     Not every settlement of physical properties carries a paranormal quality of quantity. I think you have to at least half believe in the possibility those who have crossed-over can communicate with the living, before it becomes an on-the-job issue. Having to deal with an alleged ghost, of an estate being settled, is really pretty easy if you are at all respectful of what it might mean to have your own cherished pieces sold-off to folks you may not approve of, and a method of dispersal you find disrespectful to your own in-life values. When we are in such a position as dealers, who are tuned to the psychic scenario, we trust our instincts and sensory perception always, and talk back in a silent, thoughtful way, to let the former ownership of these antiques, etc., know that we intend to act as immediate conservators, and stewards of each acquisition, and that we will pass on the subject articles, whether furniture, or vintage dolls, to new owners who as much, will adopt them with considerable affection. Now, it's true, that we are not always able to do this, as you might have guessed, because when we do offer items for sale in our shop, we can't put restraints on the buyer to abide by what we promised an earthbound spirit, that didn't want to let go of their once prized possessions. It seems a little whacky, but you know, most senior antique dealers appreciate that some of the estates and estate items they acquire, carry a little unexplained enchantment with them, and while not making a big deal about it, have in some way, known similar circumstances as described above. There are pleasing and happy estates where there are no encumbrances, and then there are others that are overwhelmingly unpleasant and possess an aura that represents different realities to different people. Whether it is the feeling of being watched, and discouraged from carrying on with purchases. A lot of dealers I've known over the decades have admitted to feeling quite happy to be on the outside of a particular sale, having experienced that sense of dread inside that couldn't be rationally explained.

     We treat antiques with respect to the succession of owners they've had through the centuries. It doesn't mean they're haunted, or enchanted, or that we feel any sense of obligation in owning them, however temporary that is in the antique scheme of things. But we mostly respect the history they represent, and we do question the heritage they have witnessed and ponder that if they could relate their stories, just how compelling would they be to voyeurs like us.