Do you have a plan for those boxes?

The boxes referred to have been piled up in the garage since we first returned from England. A few had been taken down from the roof where they had been stored for the last 6 years. Others had sailed the sea from the motherland carrying our precious little items. Those imperative for life in the Hayshed were organised and given places of their own, however the rest of the untold treasures were just piled up in the garage. At first I had noble plans of unpacking one each day and throwing out the things that over the 6 years of exile had lost all importance but after the first day I realised that I hate unpacking, have to be in the right mood to throw anything out and despite having to maneuver carefully I could fit the car in the garage despite the pile of boxes. So there they sat. Until dripping with sarcasm Mister asked " Do you have a plan for those boxes?" Needless to say I was not that impressed and my plan was already in place.. do nothing, fill my days of unemployment up with other mindless activities and pretend the boxes weren't mine..or should I say ours?? Sadly though his reminder brought on the guilt and on waking to find yet another grey day (remind me again why we left England?) I felt that maybe I should take a peek into one box. I found letters. Letters from primary school mates, college pals, faceless names, students, family friends, employers, lecturers.. Letters that were generic, cards that were only signed. I had not been selective. These were not ribbon tied bundles of love letters. There were postcards not written on, letters laboured over but never sent, bubble wrap packages with no package. So with Oprah in the background I began on the first shoebox. The most beautiful was a card from a friend who I have known over 15 years. He told me how special a girl I am and what a significant part of his life. I was truly glad because from that card I can track a friendship that led to tissue boxes being thrown, yogalates, bubble tea, dossing on the couch and being inspired. The most sentimental was a poem from Mister written within the first months of dating..That I should frame! The most cute was from a student who said they would miss me forever (When did I teacher her? Maybe she could write me a reference!).

I did cull. I did not cry. But I did smile and I am determined now to send some mail for others to collect in boxes in the attic. It will be real, it will be open, it will make someone truly glad.

One box down.. a few to go!