I keep sneezing from the dust as I eagerly open another box. My eyes fill with tears as I read a touching card from an old friend. I laugh out loud at yet another picture I had long forgotten as I close my eyes and step right back into that very moment with ease.
With the shift in my family following my stepfather’s passing, we have begun cleaning out my mom’s attic. Much of the content of the “Cindy” boxes I have not seen since my childhood and high school days. The rest were sent directly from college or a few years after. The trip down memory lane has been quite trippy.
I’ve come to realize that, as sentimental as I am, I am also really good at closing chapters and, in this case, boxes, and moving on with my life. Out of sight, out of mind. But this crazy thing happens when I lift the lids, it all comes flooding back.
Picture after picture, letter after letter, one thing remains true.
I have been so lucky. I have been so blessed with meaningful friendships and connections. I have had so much love in my life.
We never truly know the impact we have had on others’ lives. How one thing said, how one relationship experience, or one friendship has changed us or taught us. I find myself recognizing the importance of honoring how others have affected my life.
They have all helped shape who I am today.
As much as I pride myself on not dwelling on the past and eagerly living in new zip codes and cultivating new friendships at different phases of my life, I am still just a big mush when it comes to shared history.
The experiences and lessons from my past, good and bad, hold a very special place in my heart and cannot be erased. Maybe only looking ahead isn’t the way to go after all. Or maybe it’s just something I’ve gotten good at, so I don’t have to fully process loss.
But as life keeps showing me, without love and meaningful connections, there is no great loss. I will still choose love and connection every time, even with the risk of one day losing something or someone so meaningful.
It feels important to honor the memories in these boxes, to appreciate all the experiences I’ve had, and to remember all those who have changed my life just by being in it.
Warm memories feel like a big hug at a time when it feels like a part of me is missing.
Is this nostalgia or just a way to bypass my grief? It feels more like leaning into my grief, letting go of what no longer remains, but also allowing myself to feel and process things that at one point in my life I may have put down too easily.
So while I recognize the importance of living in the now, I am so grateful for what was, what has been, and all who have contributed to who I am now.
And as I close the boxes this time, I leave the physical memorabilia behind but take the memories with me, alive and well in my heart. And I realize now that through it all, my heart has always had the best memory all along.
