01/28/2024
The Box
I have a small box tucked away in the back of my closet. In it are all the things I've saved over the years that were special to me. My grandmother's watch, my grandfather's driver's license, my father's high school ring, and love letters.
Its been over 8 years since I've opened the box. (And, I'm ashamed to say, cleaned out my closet!) I decided to stop procrastinating and get rid of some of the clothes and shoes I haven't worn in years.
And then I saw it...the box.
I wasn’t expecting the wind to be knocked out of me, or for the tears to fall. I wasn’t expecting to be affected much at all. I wasn’t expecting to spend an hour reading every saved letter. I wasn’t expecting to be transported back to that time in my life when everything made sense to me, and my heart wasn't broken yet.
I don’t know how many deep breaths I took as I opened each letter, or how many times I checked the dates on each one. How I stopped breathing completely when I found the invitation to our wedding.
It all came flooding back to me, but the thing that hit me the most reading the wedding invitation, was that we were both here. Alive, happy, and together.
It was then that I realized a piece of me got stored in this box with the other things. I put a part of myself away with all these memories because it was safer to hide there in the moments when we were together, than to live outside the box alone.
Here's the thing...I’m always asked when is a good time to go through these mementos we hold onto in life, and my answer is always the same, "only do it when you're ready, and maybe you'll never be ready."
The box reminded me how personal grief is, and how selfish. In my opinion it should be, because nobody can tell me they know how I feel. I know a lot of people can identify with it, but nobody really knows how it feels inside, just like I can’t really know how you feel deep in your heart.
I can tell you it’s okay to not be ready to go through their things, and it's okay to still think about them. It’s okay to still want them to be alive.
The box is just like my grief, I've held it close to me for a very long time, and sometimes I move it to create space around it for other things. I might not think about it for a while, but it's still always there.
On the days when I start to forget...I'll open the box, and I know the memories will come rushing back.
Gary Sturgis - "Surviving Grief"