The two smaller boxes that I pulled out of the attic still lay on the floor in the corner near my front door. They were calling out my name to open them. But I had a strange feeling in my gut whispering “no”. It was almost warning me I wasn’t ready to see what was inside the boxes.
I was eating like a slob. I knew it but wasn’t willing, or wanting, to do anything about it. Fast food was a perfectly normal food group. As was alcohol. I know I’m going to be pissed off when I get out of this on the other side (or when my clothes don’t fit) whichever comes first. But at this moment I just don’t care. I just feel numb and drained. I want the funeral to be over with so some small semblance of normal can come back to my life.
As I sat on my floor the boxes around me and a glass of wine on the coffee table just in front of me. I opened the first box of photo albums. The first one I came across was of a holiday. I must have been around six or seven. I was sat surrounded by sandcastles all different sizes, the biggest one had a flag on the top. I had a pale pink swimming costume on and white sun hat. It was a simple photo but it reminded me of how lucky I was. Some of those family holidays were my favourite memories as a child.
I smiled to myself as I saw the different photo’s various holidays, family parties and day trips with friends. All of them a different happy moment. Right at the bottom of one of the boxes, under an old newspaper, there was another album. Inside was photos of me and my grandparents. I only recognised them because of the one photo I have of them, on the wall in my bedroom. These must have been from before they became estranged and moved away. I never understood why my mum never reached out to my grandparents over the years. I was sat on my grandad’s knee. I couldn’t have been more than two years old. Sat next to me on grandma’s knee was a young boy. I didn’t recognise him, but he did have a familiar look about him the more I looked at him. I don’t remember having met any cousins on my mum’s side of the family. But since I hadn’t seen them since this was taken it’s not a surprise.
Both my parents came from big families and it always surprised me that they hadn’t wanted big families as well. On my dad’s side of the family I had plenty of cousins and we all ranged in various ages with me being the second oldest. I closed the photo album of my grandparents and the boy who appeared in a couple of other photos. Instead of putting it back in the box with the others I put in the couch behind me. I’d ask my Uncle about that tomorrow.