We have a lot of Rubbermaid totes in the house. Okay fine, by we I mean me. “We” have totes in the garage, in the attic, in the guest bedroom and in our daughter’s closet.

Each tote holds specific items. The ones in the attic have all sorts of holiday decorations. The totes in the garage have hurricane supplies, my maternity clothes and who knows what else. The totes in my daughter’s room has all of her old clothes, clothes that were hand me downs and there’s a tote that I call the baby box. The totes in the guest bedroom have board games, craft items, my husbands grandmothers tea set and a tote that has some other miscellaneous items. Each tote is either gray or clear with a semi colorful lid. I might be slightly OCD but that’s a conversation for another post.

Of all these totes there is a lone pink tote with a gray lid. It sits in between two other totes in the guest bedroom. I have had that tote for 8 years now. I know exactly what is in that tote. I have probably only opened it maybe 5 times in the last 8 years. Recently my mom was here and she was helping me organize the house (and all the ridiculous amount of totes I have). I opened the tote BRIEFLY and shook my head and then closed it. I softly asked her what I should do with it. She responded with “Crys, only you can answer that, but I think for now just close the tote and put it back.”

The tote full of hidden memoriesShe was right. I didn’t want to deal with it now and maybe I never would. OR maybe I have dealt with it and me closing it back up and putting it away is acknowledging that I know what’s in there, I know I’m not ready to throw it out and I probably never will. My husband has never questioned its contents and he knows what it contains. {God bless him} The tote has followed me from apartment, to condo, to house and all the while it just gets put away and never opened.

The tote contains what feels like memories from a lifetime ago. They’re photos from my first wedding, from the honeymoon and miscellaneous photos from that relationship. I’m sure some people wonder why I “hold onto them”. It’s simple: it was my life, it was a decision I made, it was something that I learned SO much from. Although the marriage didn’t work out it was definitely for the best. I’m happily remarried to a wonderful man, we have two beautiful daughters and truth be told, sometimes I even forget that I was married before. At some point I will have to tell my daughter I was married before her dad, or maybe it will somehow just come up in a conversation. Until then the tote will remain in it’s place tucked in between the two other totes.

 

The tote full of hidden memories

 

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