Glass Box

When I was fairly little my grandmother would take care of me while my mom and dad were working. I loved going over to my grandma’s house. I enjoyed playing tea party and putting on her fancy dresses but most of all I loved seeing her pretty glass box. It had gold trims with flowers of all shades of pink inside. I remember trying to play with it every single day. My grandma would let me do anything I wanted to do except to touch her pretty box, but that didn’t stop me from trying. Everyday I would stand up on the stool reaching for it. Sometimes she would catch me in action. She would go to the bathroom and I would quickly hop on the stool. Sometimes I’d hold it for a couple of seconds but two seconds later she was right in the middle of the room. I’d beg and beg. Cry and cry but nothing would work.

One day, when my mom dropped me off I ran into the house looking for the box. Had she moved it? No, I check everywhere but it was nowhere to be found. I figure my grandma hide it from me or it broke. However, I didn’t ask what happened to the box because I knew she wouldn’t tell me either way.

Ten years later and here we are. It’s been so long since I’ve been here, in my grandmother’s house. Grandma was getting to the age where she could no longer take care of herself, and mom was too busy with work to be taking care of her at home. She’s moving into a retirement home.

I’m in her room helping her pack her boxes when she sees a teal box with a big bow on the top. I remember that box. She would never let me touch it but today was different. She called me over to show me her old memories. There were pictures of grandpa and her on their wedding day, some old dried out peonies, a gold locket with a picture of her and her mom. In the teal box there was also the box I always wanted to play with. She held it in her hands and handed it over to me. She told me, “Sweetie, I save this for you, I’ve been saving it for years and years. I remember you were always begging and wanting to play with it. Here. It’s yours.”

When we went back home, I put the beautiful glass box on my bed stand. When I was little, this was just something that I found beautiful, all of the vibrant colors called my attention. I can’t see my grandma as often anymore but every time I wake up to the glass box next to me I feel my grandma’s presence.