Five years ago I wrote myself a letter. “Dear Future self…” it began. I was part of series of letters that I had written every couple of years to myself since I was eleven-years-old. I had started keeping a journal after becoming obsessed with the Dear America book series for children and thought it would also be fun to keep another time capsule that I could open with surprise in the future. I would write briefly about my life at that time, what I was doing, and what I was interested in. However, the conversation with my future self always turned to the important questions. What does the future entail? What happens to me? (more…)
A loud crash of boxes startles me and my heart skips a beat. I notice that the alarming sound has come from the closet that I used while I was in high school. No really one goes into my old room unless I’m visiting my friends and family in Bakersfield, so I’m curious to see what has disturbed my untouched room.
I walk over to the door and slowly slide the rolling door of my closet open and peek inside. As suspected two boxes has crashed onto the floor. However, they are not just any boxes. These worn shoes boxes that have been decorated with brightly colored paper and wrapping were my memory boxes filled to the brim with small knick-knacks and trinkets that represented moments that have passed long ago. (more…)