No Souvenirs

I have a memory box.

The particular box itself is nothing special, I got it for Christmas one year and it had Dove soap and bath foam in it. But the box has stars in lovely colours on it's lid, so I kept it. Then one day I realised that I had a habit of saving things of significance. Things that I knew would remind me of a particular event in years to come, such as Cinema tickets, train tickets, receipts, etc.

The box is getting quite full now. Most of the things in it are from my holiday to Lanzarote two years ago, and it'll no doubt get fuller with things from my upcoming holiday this year.

I sometimes look at the box, and wonder if when I'm older, I'll sit and look at it's contents with love and happiness. Each item holding a piece of my memory in the contours of it's material. Memories that I may have forgotten if I hadn't of kept a keepsake.

Maybe I'll be able to explain the reasons for keeping these items to friends and family to come. It'd make a great topic of conversation, I'm sure.

Or, maybe, if I ever reach 90 years old, and I'm sitting in a nursing home, I'll remember that I had lived. I had done, laughed, seen and been. And each one of the things in my memory box, held a time in my life where I was young and wreckless. But no matter how young or wreckless I was, I took notice enough to appreciate what life was giving me. And these things are in my box.