“It’s just a wooden box”, I remember saying during one of my numerous Bluebird Trail pitches. That simple wooden box came with endless potential of life, love, and happiness because in that wooden box a family was created right before our eyes. That wooden box was treasured in our weeks throughout Spring and Summer and became a pandora’s box of memories for years to come.
Fast forward to today, my “just a box” is now 195+ cardboard moving boxes. Like monitoring the bluebird boxes every week, digging through the neatly packed boxes is bringing back countless memories. Each box of China brings a story with it, from Grandma Helen’s banana split bowls to me remembering the wisdom Grandma Mary would whisper, “this too shall pass.” Flashbacks are exhausting, but this is part of the process of going through a transition.
There are always going to be boxes. Life is just a bunch of different boxes. At the end of the day, I want to feel at peace with my decisions for the boxes. Sorting through item after item and thought after thought has me questioning
“Is the item a treasure to keep or is it a treasure to remember?”
“It’s just a wooden box” will always remind me of the joy simplicity can bring. Bringing myself to organize and sort through years of belongings is just another box on my shelf. I’m taking it one box at a time while singing my motivational tune ~One box, two box, three box, four – everybody come let’s get off of the floor ~
