I was watching Forest Gump the other day and, any time that you mention that movie, there are a few quotes that are inevitably brought up:
"Stupid is as stupid does."
"Run Forest Run."
and of course:
"Momma says, life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get."
I've come to the conclusion that not only is 'life like a box of chocolates,' life is also filled with other boxes and you never know what you're going to put in them.
As a child growing up each of the kids in our family had a 'big red box.'. It was one of those boxes where you put all of the stuff you wanted to keep...rather, it was a box where our parents put things they thought we would like to have someday.
I no longer have that box. I outgrew it. Now, I have many boxes. They vary in shape and size but their purpose hasn't changed, they still hold all of the things I 'will want someday.' To say that each item in the box represents a memory would not be entirely true...sadly, I don't remember doing a lot of what is in that box. There are elementary report cards, childhood drawings, old poems, and a host of other things that I have collected over the years. They all have my name on them so while I can't remember doing them, I'm pretty certain that I did.
These boxes are almost like time capsules that were never got buried...instead they were stored under beds and in garages. I'll be the first to admit that it is fun to look back and think about those days and that I'm glad that I have those things to help me recall those memories. I have not reached hoarder status, nor do I consider myself a 'pack-rat' but occasionally I find myself thinking, 'someday I'll wish I kept this or that' so I'll add it to the box.
But I have also found that sometimes I need a box to help me heal and in some cases to help me forget...at least for awhile. In addition to these tangible boxes that find their way under my bed, there are also the ones that I create in my heart and in my mind. I tuck things away until some future date when I can look back and not feel the sting of the 'red hot irons' of memory that those contents bring to mind.
It's like Rose Kennedy once said:
"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone."
Some boxes are not meant to be opened again, and others we return to time after time...either way, within those boxes are all of the things that have made us into the individuals we are today. They have made us stronger and they help us remember where we have come from and point us in the direction we will go. Here's to my boxes and yours...cheers!