Imagine Boxing Up Yesterday ...

A metaphorical emotional journey

Imagine Boxing Up Yesterday...

Imagine a box …

four sides, a lid, a safe place

to store something in …

A place to preserve it, remember it, touch it.

 

Imagine a home …

four sides, a roof, a safe place

to live …

A place to be to be happy, sad, make memories

Be mad.

 

There have been many boxes in my 66 years

I remember the first one… Age 6, the year I began collecting

All those precious treasures… 

All my report cards, notes from my first boyfriend,

Artifacts from my junior/senior prom, 

Newspaper articles, one especially naming me

Top Dog…

that one has special meaning…

I received it at the end of my senior year 

After feeling forgotten by my classmates of 12 years.  

I still have that box.

Every now and then a memory, or an artifact goes in there.

That box has moved with me many times and many miles.

On occasion I sit on the floor

Open the box and remember.  

On occasion maybe I let go of something to make room 

for something else to take its place…

 

I have lived in many houses in my 66 years

Only three during my childhood and adolescence.  

Inside each, I had my safe place with four sides and a ceiling…

 

The shelter of my childhood changed as I reached adulthood at age 18

I was told to never return to live under that roof

I was on my own.

The unknown, with no sides, no roof was scary 

Yet exciting,

I felt so lost without a roof overhead…

 

As I began to find myself I knew what I wanted

not necessarily where I wanted to find my next roof,

but knowing I desperately was seeking to start my own family…

Desperately seeking someone to love me, who wanted to also

replicate the good from his childhood and improve on the bad.

 

I found it!  I found him! …. At 22 we put the first roof over our heads and

Began the first day of our lives together.  

We began our family … in five years we had three children

We acquired many boxes of “stuff”

There were many roofs over our heads 

in 10 years together …

 

Ten years into a relationship of dysfunctional love and codependency 

My walls crumbled again.

The shelter of my young adulthood changed. 

I was on my own again, not only responsible for me, but for those three little angels who were relying on me…

They were relying on me to keep them safe ….

The unknown, with no sides, no roof was scary 

Yet also exciting.

I felt so lost, so scared … my maternal survival encompassed me

We found our first safe place together.  It was special.  I did it!  On my own.

 

At 33 I found my soulmate, it was like my rebirthing…

My life, my children’s lives, his life all now one…

A new home…

It felt so different but the same…

four sides, a roof, a safe place to live …

This time however I could be myself… and felt honored once again.

My soulmate loved my children as his own…

At last maybe I had found my place, my perfect home!

 

Years passed, there were many new roofs

All the while those four walls,.

that roof over our head …

Always felt like home.   

 

The boxes moved with us

Some remained, some disappeared… 

Only the best survived.  

As years passed we worked on eliminating,

Oftentimes some that should have been destroyed

continued dragging along … baggage from the past.

 

I created a box for each of my children…

All those precious artifacts and memories.

As each reached adulthood 

I chose items from their box

To give to them for their continuation,

While saving a few precious items of their lives to add to my own box

 

Along the way I hoped my children would never feel the

abandonment I felt when they reached adulthood…

It’s been tough…

During our journey as a family

I’ve wanted to lock the door to my house,,,

and shut individuals out.

There has been love, hurt, happiness, and 

Sadness throughout each of our journeys.

There have been tears of sadness and remorse

Tears of love, hope and happiness.

We’ve had to all learn how to forgive, yet never forget….

We have all been here together 

While sometimes each under our own roof,

But having the same sky above us.  

 

Oftentimes as each year ends and a new one begins,

I may think that the next year could never get any harder

than the year just passed.

Why do I keep saying that ???? 

Almost every year …

Can that be true? 

Or is it because I have chosen the “hard” way?

 

In reflection, I have to say my 66^th year, the year of COVID 19, 

Has truly been the toughest year of my life,

Of my soul mate’s life,

Of my children’s life,

Of my grandchildren’s life.

 

We’ve each had our safe place.

That roof over our heads.

All of us scared to death … literally…

Each of our boxes are filling up with artifacts

And memories, happy and sad…

FaceTime has kept us connected to others

whom we haven’t physically seen for now over a year.

Feelings are raw.

Trust is running low.

When will this be over?

 

It will never be over.

We will always remember

the items in our boxes that we have chosen to keep safe 

Until we are ready to release them…

 

‘lil dot

a.k.a. Marcina Ann Brown-Strang

February 16, 2021

Author's Note

This is my second poem. If you have a moment I would appreciate your comments or critique.