The Package

I look up at it from where I stand; I can see how tightly I have wrapped it. ... I did it that way on purpose

I hear the package rattle.

From the corner of my eye I can see it shake

and I look away

ignoring its presence.

 

If I pretend it’s not there

I won’t be tempted to take it from the shelf

where I purposely put it high and out of reach.

 

But it continues to call to me…

Rattle… rattle… rattle

Shake… shake

 

I look up at it

From where I stand;

I can see how tightly

I have wrapped it.

 

Layers and layers

of heavy paper

and tape.

 

I did it that way on purpose.

To give me time to remember

and stop myself from opening it,

in case I forgot what is inside.

 

Inside…

 

Inside is more sadness then I am ready to encounter.

Inside is sorrow that I am not willing to face.

Inside is loss and pain.

 

And these things have the ability to engulf me

and leave me powerless

against the rift they will carve in my heart. 

 

But inside there is something more.

Something that calls to me louder

than those emotions I am afraid to confront.

 

Inside are a million treasured memories of the past,

of the last weeks, last days, last minutes, last seconds,

and the memory of the last fragile breath that was drawn

as his precious spirit was released to float away.

And for those reasons I will open the package.

Author's Note

This year my Brother in-law lost his battle with cancer. Calling him my brother in-law hardly does justice to his place in my life. He was my brother, at times like a dad, and always my friend. I wrote this to help me process the loss I was afraid to feel