He had given up most of his possessions, telling himself he'd looked long enough at knickknacks and junkyard stuff that took up space. He took his time going through things and saying goodbye if it didn't make him smile or shed a tear. He had stopped going to yard sales and thrift stores a while back; he didn't need more of other people's memories and forgotten history. He kept all the precious items his kids and grandkids made for him over the years, each holding a special place on the old shelves he found at someone's curb, waiting to be crushed and dumped at the landfill.
Yellow squares stood out on the walls as pictures he cherished were taken down and neatly packed away to be seen another day or not. His grandparents' house was handed down to his parents and then to him, where he raised a family. He took down his big brother's Army picture; he seemed so young and proud. A tear dropped onto the dusty picture of his wedding day and the promise of a long and happy life with the girl of his dreams standing beside him for over sixty years. Photos of the first Little League games and graduation days. Dance recitals and family picnics all lined the walls of a happy home.
The boxes are packed, waiting for the moving truck to arrive. He had one last chance to sit in the rocking chair he made with his son for the school wood shop class, remembering a lifetime that sped past him that he never thought would end up with him going to a place where others like himself went to get even older but never a burden. His house was empty now. No new memories, just ones he struggled to keep. No regrets, he told himself as the old rocking chair was loaded onto the truck, and he took one last look at everything that meant anything to him. He wiped away the tears as he stood in front of the house his grandparents built, wondering how long it would be before he was reunited with those he loved. Soon enough, he told himself as the taxi pulled up, and he cried unashamed, waving goodbye to a well-lived life.
Mike 2024
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