September 8, 2012
A Necessary Story
In a small memory box she keeps many things. Sports pins of my aunt from fourth grade, pins of my brother and me from softball and baseball, and print outs of emails that have been sent between her and my mom. In the box she keeps cards that my brother and I made for her when we were in elementary school and homemade place mats from Thanksgiving from ages ago. She has the most trivial trinkets in there that mean so much to her. She told me once that when she misses us, she goes into the spare bedroom and gets the box. Shes takes everything out one by one, and places them onto the kitchen table, then places them back into the box, one by one.
To my grandmother, the little things always mean the most to her. Just saying "I love you too, Gram" makes her whole entire day, and living an hour and a half away is very hard, because family is everything to her. When I was in seventh grade I wrote a poem called "My Memory Box". A few years after writing the poem, I made her a 'memory box'. The box was small and was made for her to put memories of her and the family so that she could look back and never forget about them. Around Thanksgiving of 2010 I realized that the box was flowing over with memories and looking rather small. I had the brilliant idea to get her a bigger box. So I ran the idea by my mom, and she thought it was great and that my gram would absolutely love it. The plan was a go. I was very excited to give it to her, even though I had to wait for another month for her to finally get it! In the month’s process I had my mom, aunt, brother and I all write her a letter to put in the box.
The day finally came. It was the very last present. Everyone sat around as they watched me give it to her. She was very confused as to why we were giving her a big chest. She then opened it to find letters, and instantly started to tear up. She told us how much we all meant to her, and I think we all got the point...