Little Brown Box Of Memories

I sit alone a lot, thinking. I seem always to be thinking. I have that mind that doesn't turn off and is hard to derail. I found this box just large enough for my stuff. I'll be leaving soon. I want to keep some stuff and put it in a safe place for later on.

A picture of my friend and me at the prom, my first car, my hair, my senior pictures, mementos friends gave me before graduation. My favorite books, some CDs, a few movies, and a handful of crystals I love my crystals; they place me in a trance. I close the lid and neatly tuck it away.

Mother comes in the room, "What is this for?" just a box to save for later. "Oh, ok, I have the perfect place for it." She then grabs it up and places it in the closet on the highest shelf near the back. "There all done now. It's safe and will be out of the way. It will be there any time you want it." "Great, mom, thanks."

I then set off to live my life, "a good life it was going to be trouble-free, and I was going to do this in a snap." I told myself, reassuring myself. I get in the car and off to college. Then I get in the car and off to work. Then my wife gets in the car we're off to work. Then I am dropping off children. Then I wake up and look in the mirror, and I am no longer young anymore.

My hair is steel grey. I hate shaving in the mornings. Silence is my best friend most days, all of the people I knew growing up are now gone. Only a few are left. Maybe I need a pick me up, so I drive to the old place and walk around. I enter the house and am greeted with dust bugs and old furniture.

I plunder through the house, remembering the stuff my mother and grandmother had used. I wonder if my kids and family "will remember me like that?" The things you think about as you get older change. I dig through stuff, remembering as I go. Finding the old closet, I find the old box and open it. All its contents like new, I stood there going over each item. I look up to notice the day was turning to late evening.

I grab the box and place it in the seat beside me and drive home. On the way, I pull into a gas station begin fueling my car up. A lady pulls up beside me, roughly my age, with a breathing apparatus attached and wrapped around her ears. She gets out, swipes her card, and begins pumping, pulling a long cord behind her. I stand there and watch, "How unfortunate." I ask, "Do you need some help?" She looks at me and says, "No, I got this. Thanks anyway," With a deep burly voice.

I walk into the Stop Get A Pop Inc Gas Station for refreshment for the long drive, the young man behind the counter standing there with glasses that were so thick they looked like the lenses could weigh a half-pound. Again, "How unfortunate." "Do you want me to count it for you?" I ask nervously but politely. "No, sir, I can count," Sounding insulted.

I resume my drive. Finally arriving home, I place the box on the table and stare at it. No thinking, just stare. I reopen it and put the items on the table, flickers of what I could have been flash before my eyes. I could have done some great things, but I had kids take care of a house to pay for mouths to feed. A deep flush of regret flashes within me a single tear of self-pity wells up in my eye.

I could have done so much more than this, looking around at this empty house. Look at me now, too old for anything except waiting to die. I sit down on the couch, turn on the TV, and the television a show about a young girl overcoming incredible odds and living through a car fire, sadly to be disfigured forever, yet she carries on as if nothing had happened.

I turn the television off and go to bed. That night I tossed and turned so many unanswered questions. My mind was racing. "Why are we here? What is this all about?" I woke the next morning exhausted. Out the door, I can see my neighbor dropping a package into the mailbox. She is using her wheelchair today. I open the door, "I see you got it charged!" I shout gleefully.

She says, "I did. I love it. Wanna pop a wheelie?" I laugh. "No, I'll pass this time." I get in the car around the corner is a young woman with a broken leg waiting on the bus. I think, "How unfortunate." I was tempted to stop and help her get on the bus. However, I think traffic would thank me for continuing.

I get to work, and the secretary brought her child to work that day. "I am sorry I couldn't find a qualified sitter." I stand there in awe, this poor child, hands bent, arms bent, legs the size of small tree limbs, struggling to breathe at times. "No, no, I understand." Wanting to help but getting in the way.

I sit at my desk thinking, "I wonder why I didn't make more time for myself? I could have been a great fisherman." I would have loved to have gone to Alaska and gone Salmon Fishing; indeed, I would catch the largest King Salmon. I laugh.

I flip through a newspaper, and in that newspaper was a quote. What lies behind us, and what lies ahead of us, are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

I read it over and over, like a song you keep replaying. What does that mean? I toss the paper down enter my meeting late. In the forum, I notice one of our co-workers was struggling. She placed her arm on the table. It was far smaller than the other, my thoughts, "How unfortunate." She took notes and kept up nicely, with no complaints.

Come to think of it, none of the people. I have encountered complaints. They struggled a little but never complained. While tapping my pen to my forehead, I think. I have heard people say, "You should be grateful." "What do I have to be grateful for? I mean, I feel like I've struggled through my whole life!". I fought the feeling off.

The following day I get up and go to work, my mind swirling, bothered by the events that have been unfolding. "Grateful, huh, how about that." I pick up a paper and today's quote: Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves. (Carl Jung).

These Grateful people annoy me, "Thank you for this, Thank you for that. Oh, you should be thankful." I get the box out again and start looking through it. I remember a little more clearly now, "I was very arrogant," Talking out loud. "I felt like the world owed me something. Maybe I still do?" I questioned myself intently.

I looked at myself in the mirror, far older "Well, have you really done all you've come here to do?" That little voice deep within me said, "No, there's more, there's always more." I asked it, "Where Do I start?" It replies, "The beginning," I ask, "Where's the beginning?" it responds, "Anywhere you want it to be."

For the next few days, it was touch and go learning how to listen to my intuition, and sometimes it was dead wrong. Other times it was spot on and would take me on extraordinary adventures. I started to see things entirely. Differently, those people that I was calling unfortunate were not I was, simply because I was the one that couldn't feel gratitude for where I was and what I had in my own life.

Now I lend a hand when it's requested, but only when it's asked for, listen when it's requested, and most of all work on my intuition instead of trying to fix other people so I can feel better about myself. Now I listen to myself, and I'm a handful.