Garage Sale Remorse

After 15+ years of garage sales, I had my last one in 2007. Annual garage sales were necessities at our house. With three active, growing boys, the closets, toy bins and plastic storage tubs fill up quickly. There was no end to the constant recycling of clothing, games, toys, sporting equipment, etc.

Each spring, much like the annual appearance of the first robin, the cars were moved into the driveway and the garage thoroughly cleaned. I would gather as many tables as possible and build my own tables using whatever was available - any flat surface would do. Preparation also occurred inside the house. I rummaged through closets, cupboards and drawers; I had to make constant decisions and sort material into piles. What is it worth? Should I trash, keep, sell, give or donate?

One particular item was a large 3-ring binder full of Pokémon cards. The Pokémon game emerged in the late 90's. My youngest son (Eric) was one, among many Pokémon players and collectors. Pokémon cards remained on his gift lists for many years. The game consists of playing cards - each a fictional creature called "Pokémon" which Humans, (known as Pokémon Trainers) catch and train to battle for sport. Collecting and trading these cards was serious business. There were multiple years of "serious business" in the 3-ring Pokémon binder.  

The 3-ring Pokémon binder had been repeatedly dragged in and out of a closet for years. I doubt he had looked at the collection for years. I didn't hesitate about placing the binder in the "sell" pile. Now I wish I could transport back in time and make a different decision.

The Pokémon binder sold quickly - for less than $10. A woman familiar with my family purchased the set for her grandchildren. I remember feeling a twinge of doubt as the purchase was finalized. When Eric (and his two brothers) eventually heard of the transaction, (days later) they were shocked and full of disbelief. I then learned that numerous cards in the binder were valuable. 

A stock photo, but this looks a little like Eric.

Some were highly sought after by collectors. Many were gifts for birthdays, Christmas' etc. My three sons ticked off the name of the best cards as though they had just played the game the day before. A quick Google search revealed some individual cards were each worth much more than $10. It was irrelevant that Eric was well beyond the age of playing the game. The collection had taken years to amass. What had I done?
 
I felt horrible. I enlisted a relative to contact the buyer. I offered to pay her (the buyer) more then double ($20) what she'd paid. I hoped she would understand my mistake. When contacted she initially expressed doubt and explained she'd already given the collection away. Reluctantly, she agreed to retrieve and return the binder for the $20. I was relieved and grateful that I could set things right.

Days later, I happily and triumphantly brought the 3-ring Pokémon binder home. I wasn't present when the binder was eventually examined by my sons, but I soon heard the shocking news. The binder had been picked clean. All the highly sought after "valuable" cards had been removed. Are you kidding me? I know I let a few choice words fly. As wrong as I felt this was, I didn't pursue the situation further - maybe I should have. It's bad enough that most of the collection (especially the missing cards) were gifts or purchased with birthday money. What bothers me most (and still does) goes beyond monetary value: it was a part of Eric's childhood that I carelessly "sold off." (The binder was never mine to sell in the first place.) I'll always regret that.

In the grand scheme of life the incident is minor. I get it. But 8 years later, I still find a need to remind myself to not feel guilty. I've never had a garage sale since. Maybe that's why.