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Dusty Box of Memories Poetry Contest
Constance La France

"We'll wheel where our wills take us and never tirer loving the ones that love us."
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I kept his birthday card in a shoebox. Inside the shoebox was a pair of Gucci men's black lace-up shoes, size 12, costing a fortune. The sadness here is that he never received his birthday present. He passed away two days before his 50th birthday. Inside his card, I wrote, "Babe if you are the last piece of chocolate in the box, I want to save that piece forever." That was 17 years ago. Today when I opened the shoebox a wave of emotions and tears hit me, and I wanted to hit back. I kept thinking, harboring these emotions all these years, "It wasn't fair. Why me God why me ... why did you leave me a grieving widow?" When I looked at his shoes I was devastated and dutifully gave them a shine as my hands trembled. He would have jumped for joy in those shoes but I'll never know. I then looked at the card, orange with kids holding balloons, and playing in a yard. Not only his favorite color. But he would have been touched because we could never have kids. But I'll never know. As I gathered myself at the altar of my life, assembling the items back into the shoebox I couldn't help but hear his voice beckoning me to move on ... I looked up, my voice chocked with tears, "Babe if you are the last piece of chocolate in the box, I want to save that piece forever."

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