Inside the Box

A box with unbroken seal. Received and haunting me now for days. Mourning should be over, I said. All I want it this to be over. But all I can do is stare at the hefty delivery, waiting for me to to carry on. All I want is to carry on. Why can’t I just open the damn box.

Without him, who is family? How am I connected? Where is my home? It’s too late for me – I can’t even go back. Everything has changed while I was confined by a mangled body, too distracted by physical pain and the shame of not being abel to care of one’s self.

Both my body and face have changed. We are heavier and lower and sadder all the time. We have fears and doubt and emptiness. If private, we are frequently inconsolable. Thick … slow and … quiet with night mares.

If I’d been on the farm, I’d have been hugged and offered my shoulder in return. I’d have touched the things that are now sold. I’d have picked up something that no one thought looked important, but might have been my last remaining connection to him. To all of them.

Instead, the sealed box with my father’s handwriting on the outside, stares back at me, reminding me how unready I am. How alone I am with no one. Who understands.  That if I know what’s in that box, it’s really. actually. over.

I thought I just wanted this to be over.

When she was dying I dreamed of her showing off a red dress. He loved it and said she was so beautiful. She lit up and danced some more. Then they both came to me, encircled me in their arms and all that was left was a feeling between us. They felt proud of me. For all my short comings, disobedience and unpredictability, I made them proud. I know without a doubt.

Inside the box is a fatal wisdom. To open the box fuses sadness and love indistinguishable and births a heart as dark as it is open once and for all. Never to fly in a fool’s bliss again.

 

Digital StillCamera

6 comments
  1. Don

    October 14th, 2016 9:00

    To know you are unconditionally Loved gives such courage, such freedom. It enables unfettered creativity and fans the spark into a flame. Love

    Lisa kept a few boxes in the dining room for months, afraid of what sadness looking inside them would bring. When she was ready she opened them, and we shared memories.

    Reply

    • Don

      October 15th, 2016 7:19

      I found another box squirreled away in the guest room. It’s an ongoing process.

      Reply

  2. Lorelei La

    October 14th, 2016 14:40

    “To open the box fuses sadness and love indistinguishable and births a heart as dark as it is open once and for all. Never to fly in a fool’s bliss again.”

    In that box is truth, in its totality. The bliss of such an opening is in the knowledge that sadness and love, pain and joy and sorrow, are all part of the same whole. Always together, never alone. It is dark, and light, and infinite. Nothing is excluded or rejected. There is nowhere and no need to hide.

    Reply

  3. Joanna Steven

    October 15th, 2016 6:08

    I am so sorry for your loss 🙁
    My thoughts are with you. I think of you often!

    Reply

    • Tonya Kay

      October 15th, 2016 11:05

      Joanna, it’s great to hear from you. I think if you, too. My love to your family and health.

      Reply

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