Thread: A Box in the Attic

Upstairs in our attic, back in a dark corner, is a large-tattered-cardboard box. It is obvious that the box has been around for a long time by its worn edges, and faded color. The box is full, and the bottom is weak. You must strategically place your hands under the bottom edge to lift it, so the contents don’t fall through onto the floor. In the box are endless memories of a lifetime. The box is filled with photographs from another era.

Occasionally, while on a mission to find something, I will stumble onto this box. I can’t help myself, and I start to explore its contents. There are several pictures that I stop, and stare at for a few seconds; some longer than the others. These are the ones that bring forth strong emotions; our wedding, our first Christmas, the birth of our children, or the smiling face of a loved one who has now passed on.

Every time I open this box I have to ask myself why I haven’t done something with these pictures. I wonder if I should buy some albums, and spend a few days going through them, so that the most precious ones can be placed in a more respectful location. Eventually, I end up putting all the pictures back in the box, and placing it back into the dark corner of the attic. I go back downstairs having forgotten what I was looking for in the first place.

Today, I once again journeyed to the box in the attic. I searched deep into the memories. I found many photos of people, and places of which I have no recollection. I wondered why I have never thrown them out. Why would someone hold onto something that holds no significance? After about twenty-minutes I put the box away, and headed back downstairs. I found myself deep in thought about those useless photos, and searched for a philosophical explanation as to why they have survived for so many years. I stared out the window at the shadows on the snow that were being cast by the afternoon sun on this beautiful February day. It was just me and the animals in the house, so no one was there to see the look of epiphany that must have been evident on my face. I knew why those pictures have survived.

In all of our lives there are moments, which in the big picture, might be considered “just filler.” These are times that might, for eternity; end up in the shadows of our memories, or in an old-dusty box in the attic. I might not have known when, where, or why that picture was taken, but I do know this. It didn’t matter if I was going through hard times. It didn’t matter if I was not feeling well. It did not matter if I was out of work, and didn’t know how I was going to pay the bills or buy food to feed the kids. It didn’t matter how much of an idiot I was being that day. As I gazed through the viewfinder of that old camera, and recorded the filler, the fluff, and that which seemed to be a meaningless moment in my life; I could always look to my side, and if not literally then figuratively, stood my wife Colleen.

Someday, someone will be given the task to go through the attic, and get rid of things that are of no use. This must be done, and I understand it. Meaningless photographs might even be tossed into a fire. That’s okay, but for now, those pictures are safe. I will never let them go.

Oh this is so sweet!
I love how you used a small, seemingly insignificant object that is so important to you as the subject of your essay. I can't find a single thing wrong with it.

This is beautiful!

The contents of your essay are so simple, yet it has a truly deep and magical meaning behind it. Memories are formed in many ways, but to capture them and keep them for years is something very special.

I really enjoy your style of writing. You are able to capture a reader's interest and hold it throughout. You have an interesting way about your writing, in that you are very emotional. It is so wonderful to read and be able to empathise with your character on such a level. I was trying to see if there would be anything I could critique you on, but I really like your writing and there is honestly nothing I can say. Sorry

The older one gets the more relevant this becomes. This is a nice piece, thanks for sharing it.

I'm not sure you were seeking a critique when you shared this piece with us. To me, it says what you needed to say and almost certainly it gave you comfort. You have given comfort to others here as well by your particular use of words.

One day when you feel able, I would urge you to write on the back of each picture what you know of its content. Other people one day might have the role of going through your papers and will be trying to make sense of them, help them now by writing what you know. Some people are keen on family tree research and will thank you for your efforts.