It looks rather unspectacular but, you’d be wrong. This box was my father’s. It held all his important papers. Birth certificates, death certificates, military papers, divorce and marriage. Life and living.
As a child, I use to be super curious about this box. My dad wouldn’t let me play with it but, it came everywhere with us each time we moved. We moved a lot when I was a kid. A lot.
My sister Shay, gave it to me yesterday for my important papers.
Looking to fill it up and give honor to its purpose, I realized my passport was missing. It’s the only active ID with photograph that I own soo…major panic moment for 30 min until I found it, in with boxes unpacked downstairs. I hadn’t realized I’d missed some of my things. If I’d not found it and got the job tomorrow, I’d have botched the whole thing!
That box. It’s important, though, it doesn’t look it. It was held by my father. If I hold it too, I feel like I’m holding him. I miss my daddy.
I put the coca-cola label in there. It is, after all, meant to hold precious things. The first thing I saw when I opened the box, was a photograph of my step-mother Joann, she died before dad. My dad understood about precious things. I think he’d approve.