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the box of the past

there is a box. the box spends most of its life in the attic. inside this box there is another box. it is in that box where my memories reside. little things that, upon seeing them, you wouldn't have any idea why someone would have them saved like this inside of a box ... part of a movie ticket, a piece of candy, a shopping list, a bookmark, coins from various countries, a bit of wrapping paper, photos of certain people, a round white pebble, a grocery store receipt, a bus transfer ticket, a bracelet made by a child ...

but they are things that have been carefully chosen. each one of them transports me instantaneously, forcefully, with all emotion imaginable, to an important moment of my life. most of them remind me of happy moments. all of them make me smile. some of them make me cry at the same time. they remind me of the people and events that have formed an integral part of my life. that changed me completely. that made such an impression on my life that after having experienced them, i was no longer the same person. and for some reason, in each case, i was mindful of this fact, and i saved a memento.

inside the box, there's yet another little box. inside of it, way at the bottom (under other little things, and some tiny pesetas) there is a photo. in this photo i am so happy ... more happy than i remember having been in my life. i went to look for this photo today, and i knew exactly where it was. it is a photo of us.

i took it out of the box.

m

Comments

Kristiana said…
ohh, did someone just get evicted from the box?
12:36 pm
mayim said…
no - rescued! *grin*

m
5:09 pm
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