Boxing Up Our Life

On the corner of the desk in the office is a #10 envelope box. It is approximately 9.75”x12”x4.25”. In the box are business records for 2020. The box is perhaps three-fourths filled.

Greg and I officially closed the business in May of 2019 when he was diagnosed with cancer. I still do odds and ends of small jobs for long-time customers. That envelope box brings memories of busier times when a year’s business records barely fit into a 11”x17”x10” box; sometimes the records required a larger box.

Business records aren’t the only things I have boxed since August 2019. I have boxed up shotgun shells, books, coon hunting trophies, knives, dishes, photographs, and many other items. Some things were easy to box. Others brought tears and it was all I could do to place those items in a box and seal it. Some of the things I gave away, most are still in my possession.

In the process of boxing up our life, I wondered . . . is this what we all come to? Items in a box that our descendants may discard without realizing what memories reside within those boxes.

There are still hundreds of things that I should box. I will at some point. Right now there are many items I cannot bear to stow away. Wildlife prints. Shot glasses. Golf instruction videos. A&W mugs, Carhartt T-shirts.

I have boxes. I have time. I do not have the desire to box away all the memories of the life I shared with Greg. They are too precious to me.

The empty boxes can wait.