What got so heavy that you had to leave it behind?
I packed the past into a suitcase. Photos, birthday cards, diaries, I brought it all with me when I moved. It contained all the remaining evidence of a life I used to live, the lingering touches of a place I would never return to.
It was heavy with meaning and memory and I never unpacked it.
Some part of me feared that in breaking the seals, I might tarnish the contents in some way. In a new light, under layers of dust, would it look different, empty, with something irreplaceably missing?
To open it would shed light on the mystery like a final farewell.
But -
Years later, I wonder.
If I looked inside now, might time have healed old wounds? Would the holes be sealed and the heavy absence replaced with lightness? Could memories still bring me joy without also the accompanying grief?
I don’t know why but the suitcase is getting lighter and lighter. I’ve grown lighter, with every day that takes me further into my life.
I think I’ll be ready to open the suitcase some day soon.
prompt as question and response