By Karen Allaire

Does the ending tell the story of who the person was? How a do-it-yourself estate sale became part of my grief process.

My 94-year-old dad ended his life by suicide in March. I experienced his death as an unexpected and traumatic ending to a long life. Since his death my goal has been to understand what happened. What led him to make the choice to end his life? It reflects an aspect of his personality, but doesn’t tell the whole story of who he was. Isn’t there more to his life story then the ending?

As long as I can remember dad had a shop for woodworking. I knew next to nothing about woodworking, but I loved the smell of sawdust when I was in his shop. Most afternoons I knew I could find him there working on a project or sweeping up the sawdust. It was his happy place.

When the time came to begin the process of settling dad’s estate my brothers and I donated most of his belongings to charity. We looked around his shop and decided to do our own sale for the tools and the handmade furniture we didn’t have room for. The sale was set up primarily in the garage with a sign listing the heavier tools for sale in the basement and the furniture for sale in the house.

On the first day of the sale the women came. They looked around, paused and started calling their husbands on their cell phones saying, “You have got to come see what’s here!”

The men started coming. They came all three days. Some were the husbands. Some were men seasoned at buying tools at sales, others just drifting in while passing by on a walk or run. One had a dog with him. That was great because we love dogs. We watched as they looked with reverence at what was laid out on the tables in the garage. Some went to look at the tools in the basement. As they bought dad’s tools they lingered. We didn’t know what some of his tools were for. They knew and were happy to enlighten us. They commented on their quality, and how well cared for they were. They told us stories of their shops, tools and love of woodworking. Some of them were getting started with their woodworking shops, while others were there to appreciate what Dad had and add one or two things to their own collection.

Dad’s woodworking projects were multifaceted. Many times, he had an idea or we had an idea and a request for him. His creative process started in his imagination. Next was a drawing using a photo we sent him or a plan from one of his many woodworking magazines. He made duck decoys, cabinets, tables, desks, shelves and jewelry boxes with secret compartments. He made me an aromatherapy cabinet equipped with glass doors and a lock. I had requested it to store essential oils safely. I remember going to the lumber yard with him to pick out the wood for a project. He carefully looked through all the pieces of wood before selecting just the right ones.

He wasn’t always happy with his results. He tried making a grandfather clock and wasn’t satisfied with how the clock insert fit. As he got older his projects became simpler. The last thing he made me was a box to store kindling for fires in my wood stove.

I was moved by the stories of what people were going to do with the furniture they bought. A woman bought dad’s rocking chair for her daughter who was a teacher and wanted it in her classroom. The woman shared as part of the school day the children would be saying prayers for Dad. I teared up.

A young man bought Dad’s rolltop desk. He was a student at a UW college studying architecture and wanted the desk for his apartment. Cool!

A young couple who were expecting their first child bought a piece of dad’s furniture they planned to use as a changing table and storage for baby clothes and supplies. I smiled.

Many of the people who came to the sale lived in the neighborhood and knew Dad. They said how sad they were to hear of his passing and shared they were sorry for our loss. Most knew him as the elderly man who mowed his lawn on his tractor and took pride in his yard. They also knew him as the man who sat on his front porch and waved as they passed by. He loved dogs and had treats if they wanted to say hello.

On day two I said to my brothers “I’m so glad we did the sale ourselves. It feels like part of the grieving process. I saw Dad through their eyes. They were impressed with the quality of his tools and how well cared for they were. This is beautiful, an honoring of him, seeing people buying his handmade furniture, finding the people that really want it. Some were strangers but some were his neighbors. It feels like it’s part of letting go and sending his things on their way. If we would have done a traditional estate sale with a company, we would have missed out on this experience”.

As time passes, I believe I’ll look back and appreciate the sale even more. It brought my brothers and I together for three days. It became a way to grieve together as we sold his possessions. A ritual that brought up memories of each piece as it was sold.

It was a beautiful way to honor dad’s passion for working with wood, part of his legacy. At one point Dad bought a custom-made iron stamp with his name. He placed the stamp on the bottom of his projects with the date they were made. I like the idea of people seeing his name on his woodworking creations. My dad’s suicide reflects an aspect of his personality, but it’s not the whole story. The sale offered me a way to remember and appreciate how he expressed himself creatively. It honored his passion for working with wood and that’s an aspect of his personality I want to keep close as I grieve his loss.