The Last Box
It was time to take out the last box and finish loading the car. The box held the last of the memories from her lifetime of adventures. She was headed to the storage unit with the final load before driving the rental car to the airport. The rest of her belongings – personal treasures and memories – boxed up and stashed in Unit #84. She wasn’t sure when she would return, so the payment was on autopay month-to-month. Afterall, who knows how long it will take for her to sort herself out this time.
The difference is this time was planned years ago when her husband became ill. She would make their lives easier, slower, and purposeful while helping care for him. No one else was going to do it. Not his son, not her sons, no one. Did they create their own distance? Did the sons hate them or just not know how to be caregivers for older folks? Is it the generation and culture they were raised in? Is it because they all are from divorced homes? Is it because their parents were, ‘fill in the blank’ – searching for a reason that their adult children didn’t seem to care? Whatever the reason, she was taking the last box to the car and heading to the airport – that was the plan after her husband died.
Only one person knew of her plan, and she doubts that person would even remember being told such a personal moment. That ‘friend’ was self-absorbed – the kind of friends she seemed to accumulate. She shared little with people after her own father died. It was the biggest loss of her life and changed her forever. It broke her heart and her spirit. Love never came again – change that – she never allowed love to come again unless it was from a horse of a dog. She existed to care for others. Mostly strangers that could not develop entanglements. If things got too close, she would change venues, locations, or roles. She was talented, smart, driven, and methodical. Complexity and extensive protective barriers kept her from crumbling. She was accustomed to this lifestyle.
Alone now, boxes secured, the rental car return and the airport awaited to take her far from what she had come to call home. A fresh and solitary adventure. The return flight was open-ended. There were no commitments standing in her way – no dogs to care for. No dogs for the first time in 46 years. No partner to hold her back from her long-awaited desires and checking off the items on her bucket list.
It was time to take the last box to the car.
KT
This writing was inspired by The Weekly Writing Prompt The Writing Tree
