I picked up a free coffee table this week.
A simple midcentury wooden coffee table listed on Facebook Marketplace.
As I loaded it into my car, the family told me they were moving out of the beach cottage they had rented for thirteen years.
Thirteen years.
Long enough to celebrate birthdays.
Long enough to know the neighbors.
Long enough to watch children grow up.
Long enough for a rental to feel like home.
The owner had refused to sell to them.
Then he passed away.
The property is now in a trust.
The future of the cottage was uncertain.
The mother apologized for the children's scribbles on the coffee table while I reassured her it would be cleaned up and loved. It had been with them as newly weds. Then, became the children's activity table. It had held drinks, snacks, conversations, art projects and ordinary Tuesdays.
Now it was leaving with me.
I've always loved used things.
Vintage cookbooks.
Old furniture.
Secondhand treasures.
I love them because they remind me that ownership is often temporary.
Most of us are simply stewards for a little while.
We inherit things.
We use them.
They bring us joy.
Then eventually we pass them along.
The children's scribbles will come out.
But I'm glad they were there.
I think I’ll enjoy them for a while.
They reminded me that before it was mine, it was part of a family's story.
That is my favorite part of thrifting.
The stories.