Mementos

"What's so special about time capsules?" My seven-year-old niece, Nia, asked. I started to answer, but she scampered away before I could open my mouth. She doesn't realize the importance of this object to me. It's a small, shiny stainless-steel container that's smooth and cold to the touch. I trace the words Vanessa Ann Davis engraved in loops and swirls, with my fingers. Time capsules are supposed to be great bonding activities and a way to express thoughts and feelings. To her, time capsules are for storing old toys and digging them up later.

I don't have a future. Storing my possessions is my way of traveling forward through time. I have to squash nineteen years of my life into a tiny container. When my family opens it in ten years, I hope they laugh instead of cry, if they remember it at all. A lot can happen in ten years. My sister is a genius. She saw this online when she was searching for urns and knew it was for me. My parents were angry with her when she mentioned the idea. I want to celebrate my life with a small Time capsule ceremony, not the long funeral process they wanted to have. They didn't speak to her for a week. She enjoyed the peace and quiet.

I've had it for three days. I'm still dithering over which possessions get the honor of preservation. I think I've settled on five things. My favorite hat that kept my bald head warm. My sister knit it for me. Yellow and purple don't go together. She knew it would make me laugh, though, and she worked hard on it. It's one of my favorite things. 

Wait. Do I want to add my hat? I hate being this indecisive.

"Nessa." My sister Chelsea is finally here. I smile. She's always late. She walks towards me, trying to take a peek at what's going into the capsule. I quickly put the lid on. 

"Stop being so nosy."

"Then I wouldn't be me," she says, rubbing the back of my head.

"Where's your hat?"

"I'm tired of wearing hats. They itch, and I don't need them anymore anyway. I was vain." 

She hugs me carefully from behind. Her baby bump is poking at me. I can hear her sniffling, but she won't cry. She hates it. I can't help thinking I won't get to meet my niece or nephew. I squash that thought quickly and try to think happy thoughts.

 "Ok, are you almost ready? Mom and dad are getting restless. They didn't want to have this ceremony in the first place."

"This is what I want. You're the executor of my Will. Whatever will a nineteen-year-old who lives with their parents and owns no property has anyway."

"I know, sweety. You want your ashes scattered under your oak tree in the back yard. I'll make sure it happens." I nod my head and blink a few times to hold the tears back.

"Give me fifteen minutes."

"Ok."

I wipe my face and sit for a moment. I get tired quickly. I can hear my sister and my niece talking on the way to the backyard. I used to get so angry watching my family living their daily lives while I lay on the couch, too tired to move. My parents are healthy, my sister is pregnant and doing great, and my niece runs around with no worries at all. She has her whole life ahead of her. I used to think the same thing. Now, I know better. I will never have a first love, go to college, get married, or have children. I never wanted children. I wonder if I would have changed my mind. 

What I can do is enjoy the time I have left. I want to spend time with my family, listen to my favorite songs, read under my oak tree, and eat my favorite foods. I fill the capsule with my treasured possessions and seal it shut. I take a deep breath and join my family outside. 

My mother is fussing around with the food on the picnic table. I can't help but laugh. My mother has loaded it with my obsession; every flavor of bagel and cream cheese imaginable. When she catches me looking at all that food, she rolls her eyes and says, "Don't worry. Whatever we don't eat will be donated to The Ladle and The Hearth." It's a soup kitchen where I used to volunteer. I know the food won't go to waste. 

My father is digging a hole near the oak tree where I would spend hours reading. It's also the same spot where we buried Wiggles, my pet fish. My niece is reading to my sister. Chelsea is rubbing her stomach and correcting Nia's pronunciation. It almost seems like any regular sunny day.

I stand and stare in wonder at my family here in my favorite place. I've had many adventures growing up in this backyard. It's the right place for my ashes and my time capsule to rest. My sister gathers everyone together. My parents stand together, holding hands. My niece stands next to my sister, waiting patiently for the ceremony to begin.

"We're gathered here to witness the passing on of a time capsule representing the important feelings and treasures of Vanessa Ann Davis…"

The ceremony is over. My sister gave a speech that made everyone cry, herself included. She finally succumbed to those pregnancy hormones. I regret that I won't ever meet my niece or nephew, but that's life. 

My father is shoveling dirt over the coffer. My sister and niece watch while squeezing my hand. I've managed to calm everyone down with hugs.

"How do you feel?" Chelsea asks me. I try to find the words to describe how I felt placing my favorite mementos into the ground where my ashes will soon be scattered. 

"Weird and hopeful, I guess?"

I think about life after death. I wonder if there is a Heaven or Hell or is death the end. I'll find out soon enough. I want to live through their memories. I want to be remembered. My legs are starting to shake. I'm tired. We sit on the family-sized bench, eating bagels and enjoying the rest of the sunny day. I lean on my sister's shoulders and close my eyes. 

It was a good day.