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The Box in the Rafters

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On those long summer days
With nothing better to do
I climb up into the rafters of my garage
To the tattered boxes way back in the corner
That are more than often forgotten about
I reach for that specific one
Carefully lowering it down
To peer inside, making sure
I had the right one
As I carried the heavy box inside
I start to remember some of the forgotten memories
That go along with this box
Some great ones
Some not so great
I sit down on the floor
And start opening the dusty flaps
One by one
As I take out the first stack
I can feel a smile
Spread across my face

Looking at the first picture ever taken of me
My parents in the hospital room
Both faces filled with pride
Looking down into the eyes
Of their first baby girl
The next few
From a couple months after
Being held by every relative
That just couldn’t get their hands off me
And a few more
From my first birthday party
With a huge clown faced cake
That was bigger then I was
needing help to blow out
that one stubborn candle
That just kept burning
Then my favorite ones
From when I was two
Some with me climbing
Or playing outside
Making adventures
From breakfast to bedtime
Then wen I turned three
I thought I was pretty cool,
I could brush my teeth
Tie my shoes
Brush my hair
and get dressed
All by myself
No help needed
At four years old
I joined dance class
For the first time
Just to have fun
With no pressure
After all
Isn’t that what childhood
is all about?
Being clueless
Thoughtless
Not a care in the world
Nothing to stress about
Just living it up
Oh those wonderful days
Of being young





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