Sunday, May 8, 2016


When I was decluttering there was a box it was simple and slightly worn.
I had it taped to the ninth degree.
There was no description on the outside except Fragile

I should know better but, I ripped thru the tape and furiously started to open the box.

Then I saw it all.

The memories flooding my head of when and where I was when I packed this box.
My throat starts to close and my breathing gets heavy.
I don't pay attention to my now shaking hands as I am more concerned about something being broken or missing.

There is nothing worse to do to me but to make me remember days past with my parents.

I used to be small and my parents took me around the world even it was not very far in reality.

I use to look up to them like comic books present superheroes.

I grew up but I use to be small.

I am no longer small.

I abhor when people take their mothers for granted or as problems.

I miss my mom very much and when I opened that box I remembered why.

I fight my now shaking hands to put everything back in the box with now extra packaging.

The cowboy hats, the costume jewelry, the cake stand.

I wish I was small if just to see my mommy again.

Bears were small once too.

unsplash Adam willoughby knox 

Post a Comment