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Rated: E · Short Story · Family · #1693502
The memories of a young woman, as she realizes how quickly her life has past her by.
She pulls the old, battered box from the top of the closet, carries it over to her bed and sets it down. She goes into the bathroom to get an old towel to wipe away the years of dust that has accumulated on it. She dampens the towel and carries it over to the box and begins to wipe away the grime and when it at last gleams, she runs her fingers caressingly across the lid. She smiles when she reads what is etched into the wooden top 'My Memories', she thought back on the day that she found the box at a yard sale and what a sorry shape it was in, but she was sure that with a little loving care she could restore its lost lustre. She had stripped all the old paint from the box and was pleasantly surprised to find the beautiful oak underneath in almost perfect condition. She removed the rusted hinges and replaced them with new ones that gleamed like gold. She patiently worked all day refinishing and buffing the box until it practically glowed. She took her old wood burning set from when she was a girl scout and etched in the words she now looked upon again.

She had placed a lifetime of memories into the box, but as the years had began past she pulled the box out less and less to look upon the treasures it contained. There was nothing in the box of any real value, old photos, saved postcards and letters, some old costume jewelry, and a few small toys. But to her the box held everything that she held dear to the world.

She sat down on the bed and turned the box towards her, she couldn't remember the last time she had opened it. The box she loved so dearly now felt alien and foreign to her. She tried to calm her racing heart, she could not understand why she felt fear in opening the box. Afterall it was filled with happiness, and it wasn't likely that an old picture was going to bite her. She drew a shaky breath and pulled a small chain from under her shirt, at its end dangled a tiny key she looked at the key as it spun on the chain, twinkling as the light caught it. She pulled the chain over her head and placed the key into the lock and turned it. The key turned smoothly, as if the box had been opened very recently and that felt strange, since it had been more that two years since she had brought the box out and opened it. She pulled the small lock free and flipped up the latch. She opened the box slowly and peeked in under the half open lid, feelings foolish she pushed lid completely open and stared down at the contents.

The item on top was a picture of a laughing child, she picked the picture up and examined it. The boy in the photo was posing in a most silly way, his beautiful blue eyes crossed attempting to look at his own nose, his tongue sticking out. She remembered the day she had taken the photo, it was on Easter some twenty years ago, everyone was in stitches at his silly antics. He had danced around pretending to be a monkey, scratching his head and side and all the while making the ridiculous face. She smiled at the memory and after one more long look, placed the photo beside the box, face down.

The next item was a postcard from Jordan, her husband. The postcard was from Germany, he had be stationed there while he was in the army. She remembered the elation she felt everytime she had found a note from him in the mailbox. She had prayed several times a day that he would come home, so they could be married and start a life and family together. She thought about a particularly rough patch, when over three months past and she had received no word from him. She had been a nervous wreck, practically jumping out of her skin every time the phone rang or there was a knock on the door. She had contacted everyone she could think of to try to find out any information they could give her, but there was none. Then another six months passed and she had began to accept that she was never to see him again. She remembered the day like it was yesterday, she was sitting looking out the back window watching the neighborhood children play and a knock came from the front door. She opened the door fully expecting it to be one of the children asking for a drink of water. But when she opened the door, she almost fainted, standing in front of her was Jordan. She fell into his arms and wept. He hugged her so tight she thought her ribs would crack. He told her about a covert mission he had been placed on, that it would have put her life in danger if she had known any of the details or where he was. He apologized to her, that he had been unable to at least let her know that he was alive. She told him that none of that was important now, because she had the only thing she wanted, him.

She looked at the worn postcard and knew that she had read it thousands of times. She read the message again 'My dearest Catherine, though we are oceans and miles apart, you are with me always in my heart. I love you, Jordan.

She hugged the postcard to her chest and then raised it to her lips and kissed it before placing it on top of the child's picture. The next picture was one of one the happiest days of her life, her wedding day. She raised the picture and looked at it trying to remember every detail. The couple that stood in the picture were so young and shiny. They smiled out, happiness beaming in their faces. She stood straight and tall in her lovely antique lace gown. She remember how upset her mother was that she had not chosen a white gown and she could have honestly worn one, but when she had saw the beautiful ivory dress with the small blue flowers, made of ribbons and lace. She knew she had to have it. It had fit like a dream, no alterations had to be made, as if it had been made especially for her. She looked out from the photo her green eyes sparkling and with a grin so big it looked as if her face might crack. Jordan stood beside her, looking polished and handsome, he had on his dress uniform and he looked perfect, from the top of his perfectly coifed hair to the gleaming gold buttons on his uniform to the perfectly polished shoes, without even the tiniest smudge. All around them stood family, on the left her mother in a beautiful silk gown, the color of the sky on a clear day. Next in line was her father, dressed in a tuxedo, for the first time ever, looking a little stiff but happy nonetheless. Beside Jordan stood his mother and father, both beautifully dressed and smiling brightly.

She remember how happy she felt and nervous at the same time. Happy to finally have Jordan as her husband, but also nervous about the upcoming honeymoon. They had dated for a year and a half before he had been shipped out and he had been gone for almost two years. The most they had ever done was some light petting. After they had arrived at the honeymoon suite she was shaking, she had went into the bathroom to change and freshen up. She was shaking so violently, she wasn't even sure she could walk, then she remembered the small pillbox her aunt had given her. She quickly took two of the small nerve pills and fairly quickly found herself calming. The night had been magic, everything she had ever hoped it to be. They had had a light supper sitting out on the small porch of the cabin they had rented. They had sat in front of the huge fireplace and talked for hours about the dreams they each held for their upcoming life and then Jordan had leaned over and kissed her so softly and so gently. He took her in his arms and made love to her for the first time right in front of the fireplace. She had felt like a princess, he had made her feel beautiful and special. Afterwards they lay in front to the fireplace just holding each other. It had been perfect.

She wiped away the tears from her eyes, she always seemed to cry when she looked at their wedding photo. She quickly sat it aside and instantly smiled at the small object lying in the box, the small ring that Jordan had given her when he had proposed. The ring he had won at the small carnival in town, she had worn it from the time he had given it to her until the time he replaced it with a real one. Everyone had thought she was crazy to wear the cheap, little ring that turned her finger green, but she didn't care. It meant just as much to her now as the one she now wore of real gold. She placed the small ring on top of the pile beside the box.

She looked through some letters her best friend Clara had written to her after her and her husband had moved away. She stopped when she got to the last one. Clara had written asking her yet again to come to visit her. At the time Catherine never seemed to have the time to go, Jordan had on many occasions offered to drive her out so she could visit. He had even offered to rent a motel room so they could stay the weekend, but she had always been too busy or at least that was always the excuse. This was the last letter Clara had ever written her, a month later she had been killed in a car accident hit by a drunk driver, while coming home from the grocery store. Catherine stared at the letter and felt shame well up inside her. She knew that Clara and her husband Howard didn't have the money to come and visit, hell she could have even sent the money for them to come, Jordan had become a very successful doctor, so money was not the issse. She should have gone, she should have brought her out to see her. But she hadn't and there was nothing to be done about it now. She carefully folded the letters back up and lay them beside the box.

The next thing in the box was a stack of pictures, tied neatly with a ribbon. She tugged the ribbon and unwound it. The first picture was of her and Jordan standing in front of their first house, what a rickety old thing it had been. She had to keep dozens of buckets on hand for all the leaks. They had struggled terribly during that time, with Jordan working full-time at a job and his medical degree. It had not left much time for them, but they managed because about six months after they had moved in she found out she was pregnant. She remembered when she had broke the news to Jordan he had jumped up from his chair and tripped on the ottoman in front of it. She had never laughed so hard in her entire life, the sight of him sprawled out half on half off the ottoman and then when he tried to stand, the wheels on the bottom of the ottoman spun him around and dumped him on his butt. She smiled to herself, there were some really happy times in that old shack.

After finding out about the baby, Jordan became a demon working double shift, doing any side work he could find and working almost nonstop with his studies. Catherine could swear that the man didn't sleep or rest for six months. It had paid off, when she was eight months along, they had been able to purchase a much nicer home, no buckets needed. It was funny to think about the second house they lived in and how grand they had thought it was. She laughed. You could easily fit ten of the small houses into the large mansion they now lived in.

Catherine continued thumbing through the stack of photos, mainly just shots of her and Jordan getting the house ready for the new baby. Then she came to the one she had desperately wanted to see, her holding Jacob right after he had been born. She held the wrinkly little baby tight to her chest, wrapped in the soft blue blanket she had spent months knitting for him. She was positively glowing as she stared out from the photo. Jacob had been perfect, in every way she could imagine. The next photo was of Jordan holding him looking down into his small face a look of awe on both their faces.

The next photos were random photos, pictures of Jacob being held by various family members. Jacob sitting up, his first christmas, his first birthday. She stopped again when she came across a picture of Jordan asleep on the couch holding Jacob protectively across his chest. She had forgotten all about it. It was the day that Jacob was sick with a cold, he had been miserable, coughing, sneezing, and running a fever. She had sat up all night with him and nothing seemed to calm him. Jordan had offered to stay home from work to look after him so that she could rest, but she had told him she would be fine. Soon after she wished she had taken him up on the offer, Jacob had cried all day, which led to coughing fits that only made him cry more. When Jordan had arrived home he had taken Jacob and told her to get some rest. She protested that she was fine. "Then go take a hot bath." he said. She had thought that that sounded like heaven, but when she got out of the tub, the house was silent. She rushed into Jacob's room to find it empty, with panic rising she ran into the living room to find the two men she loved more than anything sleeping soundly on the couch. She couldn't resist taking that picture.

The photos that followed, spanned a lifetime, vacations, holidays, Jacob's ballgames, years of memories and years of happiness. She dug deeper until she found the photo she needed, the last photo of Jacob. He stood tall and straight looking so much like his father, with his dark hair a little longer that she liked it, beautiful blue eyes, high cheekbones and a strong chin with the tiniest of cleft in it. The picture had been made three years ago. They were having a memorial service for Jacob today, he had followed in his father's footsteps and joined the army. He had been missing in action for over a year, but about three months ago they had found his body. She could still hear the echoes of her screams as the filled the house when she had heard.

She remembered begging him not to go, but he would not listen, he would just reply that he wanted to serve his country. He had promised her that he would be fine and would be home before she knew it. But he had been wrong, struck down at only twenty-one and for what? She had no answers. She gathered all the items in the pile back up and placed them back into the box with the exception of the one she was holding and the first picture of him, showing his silly personality, acting like a monkey.

Jacob had been a special soul. He had always brought happiness to those around him, had always helped others without having to be asked, and was always one of the first to jump in to get the job done. Those were his gifts and his curse.
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