It's inspired me to write about a woman that I have never met (and never will meet) but who I now feel as though has become a sort of absent friend.
Her name is Joan Mathers.
The first I knew of Joan (front row of the photo, fourth from left, in the striped dress) was a few weeks ago at my very first trip to the auction house. This is a company that specialises in house clearances and I had been desperate to get to an auction to source items for my stall. Viewing was on the Tuesday, the auction was on the Wednesday.
At first, the excitement of rifling through boxes of china, household items & furniture was all I really considered, along with the many other people there all for the same thing. The fact that this was a house clearance of someone who had recently died didn't really register too much.
But even that one hour searching for treasure taught me a lot about Joan: she adored dogs - spaniels in particular - was an avid collector of antiques and she loved brightly-coloured costume jewellery.
I was struck by just how sad it was that this lady had no family to take care of her possessions, as a huge number of them were very personal. All that she had left was eagerly being rummaged through by people (myself included, of course) looking for a bargain. Where were her family? Where were her friends?
The next day, at the auction itself, I'll admit that these feelings were mostly pushed to one side by the sheer rush of bidding and, sometimes, winning. I collected my purchases - paintings, boxes of paper ephemera, photographs, china and glassware - and took them home to sort through them.
What I found out about Joan (and her husband, Peter) from a couple of hours of reading her papers is too great to write here and besides, she deserves a dedicated post, just about her. She is a lady who lived a full and interesting life and it should be remembered by someone, even if that someone never truly knew her. Her story is one I will go on to tell here, very soon.
I'd already decided to write about her when I got talking to several people about the whole affair. It surprised me that people were so genuinely interested in what Joan had left behind and what I had learned about her. It even moved one friend to tears that someone's life should end up encapsulated by a few dirty boxes holding their most precious possessions for strangers to pick over.
In explaining that I was going to write about her, people seemed to agree that this was a way to honour her and so that's what I intend to do. I feel as though I know this woman, having journeyed throughout her whole life in one way or another, even if there are only clues about events, places and people.
From the letter that she wrote to a man called Jack - telling him that she was very sorry but she could not marry him - to the notes from a dressmaking course that she took in 1953, to the photographs of various workplaces she had, this was a life; Joan's life.
So, I've made a promise to myself (and to them); when I come across an item that reveals its previous owner to me, I will create something here, as a lasting memory of who they once were. Maybe no-one will ever read it but at least I will know that it exists.
Richard E. Grant said in his recent Channel 4 programme, 'The Dirty Weekenders' that when we take ownership of an antique, we merely look after it for a few years and are just a stop-off on its journey.
There are some items of Joan's that I don't think I'll be able to part with, now that I 'know' her and honestly, care for her. Maybe I am just looking after them for a while, ready for them to be part of someone else's story.
But for now, I'll settle for telling a little of her story.
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