The Pork Roll

 

This is an actual story, unfortunately.

My partner and I buy all sorts of antique items on a fairly regular basis. A few days ago, we got a call from a gentleman who had the power of attorney for his elderly ailing mother whom he had just put into a nursing home. The gentleman was trying to raise some funds for the long term care of his mother.  We arrived promptly and were greeted politely and appreciatively. We chose a variety of antique furniture and some brick a brac to purchase. We agreed on a price with this nice young man who had come up from North Carolina to handle his mother’s affairsHelping my partner move the marble commode he had purchased, the young man muttered “My sister isn’t going to like this” Not two minutes, without warning, I heard screaming and screeching like I have never heard before. It was like someone was fending off a wild attack dog. It was so loud the words were indiscernible. The pork roll, delicately wrapped between scrambled eggs, toast and a thin layer of tin foil, still steaming, I might add, became airborne. The pork landed in the dirt, while the rest of the parts landed on various parts of the sun baked car, the majority of it smearing the newly cleaned windshield.

The North Carolinian raised his voice at his younger sister and said “I have been telling you for months if you want anything that was Mom’s, you have to pay for it”. The man’s hysterical sister ran up the long hill to her home, which was located within sights distance of the estate. The sister’s husband was standing in their yard and yelled down to the North Carolinian, “Is it really worth it”. Now the hysterical younger sister chimed in again, screeching” I have as much of a right to Mom’s things as you do!”

Now the marble topped commode, the item in question had a full retail value of about $225.00. (This is on a good day) My question is, is it really worth destroying a lifetime relationship for a material object that is not only replaceable, but affordably replaceable?

People and relationships are what is important, not Granny’s marble top commode.

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