boxes / by Leah Zawadzki

i drove a box i could barely pick up to the goodwill today.  i had to push it out of the house it was so heavy.  it was full of a bunch of junk.  junk that we had grown out of. stuff that kept getting in our way.  

but it was also a box full of memories. it was a very heavy box.  the repeated sound of darth vador's impressive, the big dragon paws on the very little feet, the silly little thing my daughter picked up in her brother's room and wouldn't down just because it was her brothers, the super hero doll that he has grown out of, the stuffed animals that she loved for a day but never really moved into the heart.  

as i left there and drove away my heart ached.  ached not because of the stuff i was leaving behind but because there is a time and space that we will never return to. but things can't keep us there, and looking back isn't either going to either.  it's funny how simple times like these make me learn to let go and live in the present--that sometimes holding on gets in the way of living fully.  i have my family, and i have the Grace of God...boxes of it...and i am grateful.