In less than 36 hours movers will arrive to pack all of our earthly possessions into a giant truck which they will drive across town and unload into our first house as a married couple. This is the house to which we will bring baby Ryan home. The house in which he or she will take their first steps, utter their first words, fear their first monster under their bed. Christmas morning will be in this house. Every morning will be in the house.
So I carefully wrap the painting of an Abercrombie and Fitch perfume bottle that my sister painted for me for my high school graduation. She hates that I still hang it in my house. She cringes every time she sees it as years of classes and practice have blossomed her talent into that of a true artist. But when I see it, I see my baby sister painting it with my Aunt Debbie and my heart is full. I wrap my wedding photos that my parents carefully chose and had printed on canvas and framed. I smile as I am reminded of how many wonderful friends and family celebrated that day with us and how lucky I am to get to spend my life married to my best friend. I wrap my paintings by my Aunt Deb, some of my most prized possessions, remembering the occasion for which each one was painted. I pack my sewing machine, a gift from Nana and Big Daddy with which I will make baby clothes... and toddler clothes... and Halloween costumes... and anything else for years to come. I wrap beer steins from around the world, a small token of Grandma and Poppy's world travels. I glance at the folded highchair, the first purchase of ours for baby Ryan, and I see our future.
And as I pack box after box of seemingly meaningless possessions, I find their isn't enough bubble wrap to protect all of the memories I associate with all of them. My life is so very full. Full of beautiful people and beautiful memories and there are only more years of celebration and life to look forward to.