The Drawers That Collect Our Lives

Losing my mother unexpectedly was the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with in my life. Going through all her belongings to clean out her house, I feared would be the second hardest.

I opened the lid on her jewelry box, then closed it and looked around the room. I walked over and sat on mom's bed so I could look in her nightstand for a pad of paper and something to write with. I opened the drawer and found an assortment of things that the drawers that collect bits of our lives: mismatched buttons, cold medicine, a lapel pin, a broken watch band with a still ticking watch attached, a dead cell phone, an old airline ticket sticking out of a paperback, a set of ear plugs, and a black film container with a gray lid.

I picked up the container between my fingers and shook it. I popped the top with my thumb and as I expected it contained a roll of 35 mm film. Since the leading edge was wound inside, I suspected the film was exposed.

Goodness, how old is this film? Would it be any good after all these years? What could be on the film? Only one way to find out. I stuffed the film container in my pocket, found the pad of paper and started a list of the things I wanted from the house.

I grabbed her jewelry box, photo albums and the family pictures from the walls and placed it all in her empty laundry basket. I checked these things off and left my list on the counter so I could continue tomorrow. I was emotionally spent on this short visit.

* * *

I stopped by Walgreens on the way home thinking they might still develop film. I chuckled as I pulled out a film envelope from the past and completed my order. A CD of the pictures and 4 by 6 prints. I could pick them up in an hour but all I wanted to do was go home so I would pick them up in the morning. I took my little strip of paper from the top of the envelope, eager to see what the film may show. If anything.

* * *

I darted in Walgreens and picked up the developed film. I waited until I was safely back in my car to open the package. I sat there and stared at the label: 25 prints. One extra on the roll of 24. I took a deep breath and peeled open the gummy flap.

I set aside the CD and opened the paper envelope. Nestled inside were the trimmed strips of developed film and the pictures.

From the first glimpse, I threw my head back and tried to blink away the tears. I looked again. It was my mom's fortieth birthday party some twelve years ago. I had taken these pictures with her camera.

The tears streamed down my face as I relived that day. Black balloons, a birthday cake with all those candles, opening gifts and her favorite, a back yard barbeque. My Aunt and cousins in the pool. And one of me even. Look at that hair! Me and my mom embracing in a hug for the camera, made me smile despite the tears. The happy day was frozen in time.

The next and last picture was the best. My mom smiling and making the 'I love you' sign and pointing at me while I took the picture. I remember pressing the button and then hearing the camera rewind the film. We were out of film.

The precious memories warmed my heart. She put the film in a drawer that collects our lives and it became a treasure for me to discover. I wondered what other treasures awaited me in this difficult journey.

Thanks Mom.

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Writer's Cramp Prompt 6/29

Your character finds an undeveloped roll of Kodak film in a drawer while cleaning out their recently deceased mother's home. Your character has the roll of film developed - what pictures are discovered once they are developed, and how do they impact your character? Write the STORY or POEM.

For those of you youngens who don't know a roll of Kodak film is - it's what we old codgers used to put inside our cameras to take pictures before digital and phone cameras. *Laugh*