Cleaning the attic

I promised myself I would do it. I had been meaning to for the past six springs. They didn't call it spring cleaning for nothing. And I wasn't known for being the worlds best procrastinator for nothing, either. I pulled the rope and the panel in the ceiling came, down revealing a ladder. I fanned away the dust that came down and held on to my flashlight, climbing up carefully.

It had been years since I had been up here. Well before I graduated high school. I think it was when I was around the age of eight, maybe. This house was my grandmothers house before it became mine. Her and my grandpa had built it with their bare hands. Grandpa had put up the fences that seperated the land he had his cows on, and then he built the barn behind the house. I was glad they had left it to me when they passed away.

I wrapped my blanket around me, careful to keep it off the floor and I made my way to the back of the attic. I decided to start there and then work my way to the front. I sneezed as dust flew into my nose. I grabbed the first box and sat down, opening it. It was filled with old photos. Some I recognized, like my grandparents wedding day, the days my aunt and uncle and father were born, but others were new to me. One was a family photo with thirteen kids standing in front of a house that looked way too small for that many peolpe. There was another of a kid that looked like my grandpa sitting on a calf while an older man put a brand onto it. And older one still was a woman laying in bed holding a baby, with five other kids standing around. The back of that one had writing on it, but I couldnt make it out. I smiled, put the pictures back, and pulled out my Sharpie. I wrote 'old pictures: keep' on the side of the box and moved on to the next one.

It wasnt a box, but a chest. I opened it carefully and giggled to myself. It was full of old toys and clothes. I pulled them out one at a time, admiring them. Handmade dolls and stuffed animals, patchwork dresses and overalls. At the bottom of the box, wrapped in what felt like fur was an old tea set. I pulled each piece out and looked at it carefully. It was hand painted. On the bottom of the tea pot was my grandmothers name. I put everything back in the chest crefully and moved it to the side of the room for the things I was keeping.

The next thing to be dug through was a box that was already labled. It was my name, follwed by 'summer of 99'. I was only a year old then so I began to wonder what could possibly be in the box. I opened it and felt a tear run down my face. It was full of pictures. I could see pictures of me in the pool my grandma had, my first birthday, vacation pictures. I looked at each picture and my heart swelled more. My grandma had taken a picture of me every day for the year, almost every hour it seemed, and then put them in this box. The next few boxes were of a similar kind, diffrent boxes for my sister's. I decided to keep all those boxes.

I kept going through the boxes, pulling out each thing and looking at it. Trinkets, toys, clothes, pictures, scrapbooks. Every box revealed a new trove of treasures, a new stash of secrets. Pictures of my dad growing up, my cousins and their paintball wars, even the foster kids my grandma took in from time to time. I even found papers for the first bull my grandma and grandpa ever bought. I didn't know how much time had actually passed. I had lost track of what time I was in. Each box I opened trasported me to another time. Every item I found made me see its history. I even found my grandmas wedding dress, along with a copy of her vows. It was like I was living the lives of everyone in my family just by opening a box.

The final box was rather light compared to all the others, and it had no writing on it what so ever. I opened it and tilted my head. There was only a single envelope in it, adressed to me. I took it out and opened it, reading each line if my grandmothers beautiful handwriting. It read:

"Sierra,

If you're reading this, then you finally got around to cleaning out the attic. Just like your grandma, you put things off, dont you? Theres a lot of boxes up here. But each box is special. All of the boxes up here are filled with memories, both mine and your grandpa's. Its a tradition we passed down, both our families. And I did my best to keep it going, even after your grandpa passed. Every time all of you would come visit, I made sure to get a picture. Now that I'm gone, I want you to keep it up. This box that you found the note in is for you. Start keeping memories of your kids, when you have them. Fill up box after box of anything you can. Toys, clothes, pictures, anything that holds a memory for you. And when its time, pass the tradition on to yoyr kids and have then keep it alive. Your grandpa and I are pround if you, darling. Keep being you.

Love

Grandma Verna."

I sniffled, hugging the letter close to me. I pulled out my phone and took a picture of me holding the letter before putting it back in the box. I stood up and laughed, realising I hadn't thrown anything away. But I was glad I went up there anyway. I found treasures that were worth more to me than a clean attic would. I climbed down the ladder, closed the door, and then went around taking pictures of everyhing I could. I would get the developed and fill that box. Just like my grandma would have wanted.