The Memory Box

The Memory Box

Ryan dances to the music in his head as he moves around the kitchen laying out the fixings for a sub. At 60 years old he is still limber enough to glide and spin effortlessly around the kitchen but after one too many dips he is quickly reminded that there is a difference between young at heart and young in body. Resigned to just bobbing his head with steady hands he places the top bread onto his masterpiece. Reaching for a knife he expertly holds the sandwich in place as he cuts it in half. He stands back to admire his work before placing the knife into the sink and placing the fixings back in their respective places. He grabs a soda from the fridge and a bag of chips off the counter and picking up the plate holding his sandwich he very carefully makes his way to his recliner.

He sets his things down on the foldaway table near his chair and reaches for the remote. He looks around for a moment to make sure that everything is as it should be before settling into to his chair. He turns on the tv and immediately finds a football game just starting. Sliding the table in front of him he arranges everything, opening the bag of chips and dumping a few on the plate and twisting the top off the soda. He clasps his hands together and rubs them in anticipation.

His eyes flickers to the screen and he absentmindedly reaches for a chip and pops it in his mouth. He readjusts himself in the seat and takes a swig from his soda. He watches intently temporarily forgetting the spread he prepared for himself. He screams at a failed play his knee bumping the table reminding him of his forgotten food. He steadies the table and braces for damage. Satisfied that there is no spillage he grabs half of his sub as he watches the game and prepares to take a bite.

“Ryan.” He stops sandwich halfway to his mouth and turns to see his wife of 35 years standing in the doorway dressed in her gardening gear complete with big floppy hat holding a pair of shears. He waits. “Hey what are you up too?”

“Well let’s see there’s a sandwich in my hand and a game on the TV I’d give you three guesses babe.” However, 35 years of marriage had taught him to never go with the first thought, so he placed his sandwich down on the plate and responded, “just watching the game while I have lunch.”

“Oh.”

35 years of marriage had also taught him that he wasn’t going to get to finish the game today and that his sandwich was going to have to wait as well. “Why are you looking for a lovely assistant,” he chuckles.

She smiles. “A lovely assistant huh, yes, I would like you to assist me. Assist me in the thing I have asked you to do for the past 3 weekends.” At 52 Melinda had aged gracefully maintaining her youthful glow and had learned patience and had gained wisdom all of which has kept her marriage going strong. So, it was with wisdom that she did not respond with the first thought that came to mind. Instead, she responded with patience, “Well I was wondering if you could go through your closet today.”

He furrows his brow in confusion, “for what?”

She took a small deep breath he didn’t register before responding, “you know go through your clothes see what you don’t wear anymore or what you can’t fit.” He sits there confusion etched in every line of his face forcing one more deep breath to escape her as she keeps herself from rolling her eyes. “The drive sweetheart, we were going to donate old clothes to the Reuse Recycle Clothing Drive. You didn’t forget, did you?”

“Forget I have no idea what you’re even talking about.” He nods slowly, “oh yeah, the drive. Oh, sweetheart I’m sorry I did forget.”

“I’m starting to doubt you even heard me the first three times I told you about it.” She shakes her head, “it’s ok dear but I would really appreciate it if you took care of it today.”

“Translation get up and do it now or regret it later.” He nods, “Sure let me just put this away and I will get right to it.”

“Thank you love. I’ll be in the garden if you need me. Oh, and there are some empty boxes in the garage,” she smiles and walks to the backyard.

He looks down at his sandwich and then at the game, “Sorry guys.”

He gets up and takes his things to the kitchen wrapping the sandwich and putting it in the fridge. He heads out to the garage and finds four boxes leaning against the wall he grabs that and after searching for a while for some packing tape he drags everything upstairs to the bedroom.

He stands at the closet for a moment surveying the two sides. The closet was a walk-in big enough to house both of their needs without an overlapping of their things. Both sides were neat hers was color coded and season coded from the looks of it. While that amount of detail could not be said about his side his things were still neat and organized. He blew out a breath and begin to make the first two boxes. How do you know what you’re supposed to donate?

He starts thumbing through his clothes. If donating means getting rid of the things that you don’t like, then he had nothing to donate. What sense did it make to buy something you didn’t like. He opened drawers and pulled out a few pants holding them up to his waist. He could admit he may have gained a few unwanted pounds but if he gained it then he could lose it right and if he donated the pants and then lost the weight, he’d have nothing to wear. He drops the pants and looks up on the shelves.

If you’re supposed to donate what you don’t wear anymore what if the only reason why you don’t wear it anymore is because you just don’t have the occasion to and if given the right circumstance, you would definitely wear it. He takes another deep breath as he stands on tip toe and pulls at the folded clothes on the top shelf. He tugs and after feeling resistance he does a quick yank. Losing his balance, he falls hard on his butt bringing the clothes and other items crashing down onto his head.

He groans and rubs at his head. He looks around and laughs to himself, “I’m pretty sure this is not what you had in mind when you sent me up here.” He starts to clean up when he comes across an ornately painted box. He picks the box up and turns it over and runs his fingers across the words Chloe’s Memories spelled out in the vines of the flowers. He settles back down with the box and lifts the latch.

He opens it and finds a treasure trove of things. He lifts out a picture of him when he was much younger holding a little baby with their hand wrapped around his finger. “Careful Ryan, she’ll wrap you around her little finger before you know it.”

He laughs as he places the picture back into the box and reaches in for another of a little girl no more than six standing beside a bike grinning from ear to ear. “I did it daddy did you see I did it no more training wheels.” He smiles and places the picture back into the box.

He rummages around the box finding a picture of girl about thirteen years old in a dark green formal dress and a corsage on her left wrist her hair pulled up into a bun and a big grin. “Daddy will you be my date to the Father Daughter dance.” His eyes begin to mist as he places the picture back in the box.

He pulls out a small teddy bear. “I hate boys. They’re dumb and stupid. I never want another boyfriend ever again.”  He chuckles which turns into a full-blown laugh with tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

He wipes away the tears and with a smile he says, “Yeah you hating boys didn’t last to long did it.”

He places the teddy bear back in the box and continues rummaging through the box. He finds a picture of her at 18 dressed in her dark blue graduation gown adorned with many cords. He lightly traces the photograph of her standing there between him and Melinda “I was so proud of you baby…” he wipes at a stray tear, “so proud,” he whispers.

“Ryan…Ryan we have to go!” Melinda yells from downstairs. The sound of his name pulls him back and he sets the picture back in the box and closes it.

He moves to the bedroom door, “What,” he yells down.

“Come on we have to go,” she yells back up. He looks back at the empty boxes and takes a step back to look in on the mess on the closet floor and winces. He turns and leaves heading to meet his wife.

10 hours later Melinda stands with tears threatening to fall while Ryan stands with an arm wrapped around her at the foot of a hospital bed. They both look on as Chloe sits cheeks flushed and hair still matted to her head with her husband by her side holding her new little baby girl.

“Beautiful,” Melinda whispers.

Chloe’s husband nods and smiles and gently kisses the top of his daughter’s head before placing a soft kiss on Chloe’s head. She leans into him smiling and looking down at her baby. The pain and chaos of the last 10 hours long forgotten as she holds her close. She looks up at her parents, “do you want to hold her?”

Her father moves towards her first. Chloe gently transfers her baby into her dad’s arms, and he carefully cradles her head as he brings her close. He looks down at her smiling as he traces her cheek and little fingers prompting her to stretch and latch onto his finger. Chloe sighs, “he looks just like that picture of him holding me you remember?”

Melinda nods and smiles, “a little rounder and a little greyer but yeah just the same,” she says emotion clouding her voice. She wipes a tear away and reaches out, “ok my turn.”

He gently transfers the baby to Melinda’s arms and watches as she talks and coos. “You should tell them,” Chloe’s husband whispers.

“Tell us what,” Ryan and Melinda answer in unison. Silence feels the room. Ryan and Melinda look at her expectantly.

“We’ve finally settled on a name” Chloe responds.

Melinda smiles, “No pressure but did you go with Isabella I really liked that one.”

Chloe looks to her husband, and he nods. She turns back and smiles, “well then say hello to your granddaughter Ryan Isabella James.”

“Oh, Chloe that’s beautiful Ryan Isabe---” she stops and looks at Ryan, “Ryan,” she whispers.

Chloe smiles widens as she looks at her father, “What do you think dad?”

Ryan, eyes glistening and smiling, moves towards Chloe and places a kiss atop her forehead as a small tear escapes his eye, “it’s beautiful baby.” He stands up and grasp her hand. She smiles tears streaming down her face as she watches her mom with her baby.

She leans into her husband’s chest, “I love you always ok.” He smiles and places a light kiss on her lips.

Four hours later Melinda and Ryan return home tired and beyond happy. They both head upstairs and when they enter the room Melinda stops. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” Ryan asks as he makes his way around her. He looks at the empty boxes in the middle of the floor. “I promise you I started then I just got distracted and then Chloe had the baby.” Melinda turns towards him and gives him a hug and light peck on the lips. “Am I forgiven?”

She nods and leans her head on his chest. “I just became a grandma. My baby just had a baby. This can wait.”

He smiles, “Translation you’re forgiven today but the moment your eyes open this mess better be straighten up and the clothes off to the donation center.” He holds her a little tighter, “I’ll get it taken care of as soon as I get up sweetheart.”

She smiles, “I know.” He chuckles as she moves away and heads to the bed. She looks over her shoulder as she kicks her shoes off, “you coming?”

He nods, “in just a minute.” He heads out of the bedroom and down into the basement. He flicks on the light and walks over to his workstation in the middle of the room. He takes a cover off a small object in the center of the table revealing an ornately painted box. He turns it over and grabs some paintbrushes and paints. He works hunched over the box for a few hours before setting the brushes down and walking away revealing the words Ryan’ Memories spelled out in the vines of the flowers.

He makes his way to the bed and right before he gets in he spares a glance to the mess. He kicks off his shoes and then drags a box into the closet closing the door behind him he works at separating clothes. Not sure of what he should donate he comes up with a system for every two things he puts away he donates one thing. He picks up the memory box left on the floor and carefully places it back on the top shelf. Two hours later he drags himself to the bed and passes out.

A little after ten that morning Melinda gets up and notices the neatly packed boxes lining the wall. She inches the closet door open and sees that it is once again neat and free of clutter. She looks over at her sleeping husband lightly snoring and smiles, “I love you too Ryan.”