|These are not my boxes--can you imagine if?|
Sorting through boxes leads to glimpses back to the past. It still amazes me to see those glimpses and then to remember when they were important.
Teaching was my profession for two decades leaving me with boxes and boxes of that life stacked on sturdy shelves. I can open my garage door and look at those boxes, see the labels, and think “Do I still have that?”, and then “Why do I still have that?”
We are contemplating moving—more just contemplating. Kids are grown and gone. Their belongings have moved with them, with a few exceptions.
With that, I know I must take a deep breath, gird the loins, and face down the lion, which are those boxes.
It is time.