Uncle Harold

My mom had three brothers and one was Harold.  I remember Harold as a funny guy and whenever he would see my sister Mary, he would yell "Oh No", slap his hand to his forehead, turn in place three times, and then fall down.  I am not sure why he did that.

I knew Harold was becoming ill and had moved in with my grandparents but, what a surprise when my Dad told me he had passed.  I was in high school at the time and was sitting in my bedroom when Dad told me. I will never forget that.  I was in shock. He was the first person I had known to die in the family.  He was 57, my age now.

While my sisters and I were going through all of Mom and Dad's items when they passed, we found 20 of the same photos of Uncle Harold.  I might be exaggerating but every time we turned around, there was Uncle Harold.   I taped 25 cent tags on them for the estate sale.  Might as well sell some of those Harolds.

After Mom and Dad's estate sale, I hauled a bunch of unsold items back to Georgia to put in a three day consignment sale.  I then took those unsold items back to our house for our very own estate sale before our move to Iowa.

Last spring  I had a large garage sale that involved my sister's items and my mother in law's items, as well as things I had moved to Iowa but didn't need.  Everything that didn't sell, I hauled to our church for them to sell at their big garage sale.  I wasn't able to help or shop the church garage sale last year because it fell on the weekend Maggie graduated from Young Harris College in Georgia.


I was very excited to be a part of the church garage sale this year.  I had been gathering things throughout the year to donate.  I decided to drop off my items the Monday before the sale since I would be at church anyway for hand bell practice.

As I walked into Baxter Hall at church that Monday evening, much to my surprise I noticed Uncle Harold sitting on the kitchen counter.

I picked him up and found the price tag I had put on him for Mom and Dad's estate sale three years ago.  I had to think this through.

He had been through Mom and Dad's sale, the consignment sale, our estate sale, a garage sale, and a church sale.  Five sales!    How in the heck did he show up for this year's church sale, we all wondered. When I suggested to my sister Mary, that mom was messing with us, she said Mom wants us to buy him back.

As the story was getting around to the garage sale volunteer members, he went from the kitchen counter top to his own table. I suggested he must have been left over from last year's sale but a volunteer said they never keep anything for the next  sale.   Harold even ended up on Facebook. A church member posted him saying he needed to go to a good home.

Saturday afternoon, I noticed Harold was gone from his table.  Somebody came and bought him.

Monday at work, I received a manila envelope from the post office. Something had come to me in campus mail! 

It was Uncle Harold!!!

Uncle Harold has found his new home.  My office!