An offering

I thought I’d struggle to pull the box down off the high shelf. I could barely reach it from where I stood—the white and red copy paper box with its perfectly fitting lid.

To test it out, I pushed up on it, and found it lighter than I’d expected, more willing to move. So I stood one step higher on the stepladder, and using Pilates abs, I brought it carefully down and set it on a stack of art supplies with a thud.

Cautiously, I pulled open the lid, expecting those trick snakes to unfurl. Okay, more like afraid it might be yet more photographs. More mementos from my first marriage, more of a life I no longer want, but still find traces of in dusty corners.

But no.

It was a box full of trophies and awards from my time selling outplacement and leadership development. Framed and mounted plaques, those acrylic mini monoliths on pedestals. Some were not inscribed, but others were, complete with company name, my full name, and dates.

How much did all this stuff cost?

More importantly, how much was it worth? Now?

My thoughts drifted back over all of the work I’d done, both earlier and later. These trophies were bricks, just one part of a path. And that was it.

I called to Larry, “Hey Honey, all of this can go.”