Her Treasure Box

As he returned to her room to take the last of the boxes. He noted how empty the room  look, how lonely it felt, without all the flowers, without all the photo that hung on the wall, without the beautiful soul who had inhabited the room, who had now moved on to a much better place. 

He couldn’t help but miss her even more. soon there was tears welling in his eyes, a lump forming in his throat.

He stood there taking a moment to gather himself. He took a deep breath and wiped off the tears from his eyes. He reached down for the last of her boxes.

The label intrigued him. It was marked as “Treasure Chest”. As he lifted the lid off the box, he was greeted by photos of all colours and hues. He sat on the floor going through each of them. He remembered how much she loved photos, to click them, to be in them. She called it her way of freezing time forever, on a piece of glossy paper.

She insisted on clicking photos of every moment in life. Every occasion needs to be treasured, is what she used to say, and the ones in the box only bore witness for her love of capturing those moments.

There were photos from every possible moment, from the one from her first date with the her future husband, to the one from their wedding day, and their honeymoon.

Then were photos from every single month when she was pregnant with him, from conception to the time when he was born, all slimy and covered with fluids. Then there was photos from his christening, photos of her cradling him tenderly, his father and his godparents and grandparents beaming proudly. He could feel the warmth radiating from the photo.

There were the photos from the first step he took (he marvelled at how she was ready to capture his first step, she called it a mother’s intuition), his first day at schools (she told him how much he cried and how he refused to let go off her), his first holy communion.

There was a photo of him with his first, and last, girlfriend. As he stared at the photo, he realised how confused he was, it was indeed a confusing and scary time.

Then he saw a photo that choked him. It was a photo of him hugging his father. This was exactly after a year he had come out to his parents, the day father finally accepted him for he was. She on the other hand accepted him with open arms and love when he came out. She always knew he was special, different from the other kids. She always knew who he was, even before he realised it and was happy when he finally did, when he was finally able to live his truth.

The photo brought back so many memories, flooded his mind with so many emotions. 

There were pictures from all the Pride she had been part of, that she so proudly and enthusiastically marched at and supported.

There was photos from his wedding. Each of those photos showed how proud and happy she was when she saw how happy her son was for cementing his love with the love of his life.

The last picture was that of her cradling her grandson. She looked so frail, it was around the time when the cancer was getting the better of her, her last few days. But no matter how frail she seemed, there was joy in her heart and that made her glow with happiness, and made her eyes twinkle brightly. He remembered that day and how excited and happy she was. It was the happiest he had seen her, in quite a long time,  since she diagnosed with her cancer.

And within a week she was gone. It was like she had waited for her grandchild to be born, to see her son finally settle down with the love of his life, on his own term, completing a modern family.

He didn’t realised that he was tearing up. When his husband came in to check on him, he just hugged him and began crying. He just held on him and cried, for her, for the world without her in it.

When he finally able to gather himself , he put the photo back into the box and closed the lid. He lifted her treasure box, while his husband put his arms around him. He took one more glance of her room before switching the light switch off. 

Her box of treasures was now his box of treasure.