the silver box contained sympathy cards and a few small objects. The envelope had some of her hair that I took from her brush. I remember thinking at the time that I would never see her hair again--this was it. As with the other cards, I read through them all and kept some that had particular meaning.
The big box actually had less stuff in it, but bigger stuff. There was a smaller box with some of our wedding stuff--her veil, the cord, and the decoration from the top of our cake. I just left that stuff in there. I'll save it in case the nieces want it down the line.
There was a bag with all our personalized Christmas decorations. I really didn't know what to do with them. I didn't want to toss them, but I will never use them again. I kept one that had special meaning.
She saved every ID card she ever had, from grade school up to her final job. Her entire nursing career is laid out here. I saved these for the nieces.
There were a lot of angels. The smaller ones I redistributed throughout the house. I'm not sure what to do with the big one. It was from a friend, and has some significant story attached to it. The friend didn't want it back and told me to pass it on to someone who needed it. I forgot it was in the box until I opened it. Now I'm thinking I need to find someone to pass it on to. I'm keeping the bear.
The datebooks from her last two years were in there. I turned to May of 2003, and saw that she made a note on the 15t. To ER. That was the day she went from being a healthy woman to having a terminal diagnosis. A week later she had surgery.
At the bottom of the box were all the cards we exchanged over the years. I read through these and kept a few of them. Everything I kept fit neatly into the small silver box, which now sits on a shelf in my office.
I made a fire out in the back yard and burned all the rest. It was cleansing and healing.