Last Friday a colleague reminded me that the annual Madison-Bouckville Outdoor Antiques Show was taking place over the weekend.  I was already feeling a bit gloomy and was eager for the weekend to begin...and be over.  You see, August 18th is a difficult day for me.  It's my big brother Joe's birthday.  The 18th is tough to face every year because in January of 2000, he took his own life.  Every time his birthday passes, I think about that loss, and each newly missed opportunity to celebrate with him.

One of his many interests was antiquing.  At one point he had amassed and personally refurbished a large collection of vintage cameras, everything from stylish Leicas to primitive, glass plate monstrosities.  He also loved to peruse odd shops, vintage clothing stores, and antique festivals because even if the goods were not worth purchasing, they always had funny stories attached to them.  He and I had attended the Madison-Bouckville show in the past, and always got a kick out of the kitschy items that are invariably mixed in with the expensive heirlooms.  To this day, I still use some silly JFK commemorative drinking glasses we found together.

This year, I took my 6-year old son Alex with me.  It was a cool and sunny Saturday, with perfectly blue skies and plump clouds swiftly cruising by on the faster-than-normal breezes.  I don't mention the weather to be flowery in my prose, but to point out a curiosity.  It was pretty windy -- the kind of day Pooh would describe as 'blustery'.  Yet, the giant windmills that surround the area of Madison and Bouckville were still.  Were they disabled for some reason?  Broken?  Being serviced?  On vacation?  Another reminder of missed opportunity, I suppose.

We spent a few hours weaving our way through the booths, not looking too closely at any of the vendors' wares, but just enjoying the walk.  We found ourselves just pattering on about how interesting some of the items were.  Occasionally I'd engage in a Socratic exchange with Alex, encouraging him to think about how and why some of the old mechanical pieces were used.  It was the kind of conversation I used to have with Joey all the time.  We both shared a love for figuring out how things worked, with him having a strong grasp on all things mechanical.  It was fun to speculate and image what life was like when these antique tools and toys were brand new.  Sometimes the conversations would lead to outright silly laughter.  The type of laughter that only follows sleep deprivation.  The type that could start up again at any moment, or get triggered by the repetition of a single word.

As we were about to leave the show, Alex and I approached a booth that featured architectural elements taken out of old renovated homes and churches.  At the booth's entrance sat a circular painted relief carving of St. Joseph on his deathbed, being tended by angels.  I wouldn't go so far as to call it a 'sign from above', but it was a gentle reminder.  Joey and I are still having those conversations.  They're just a little more quiet.