It had been a long time since I looked into the family cedar chest. When I opened the top, there was a faint smell of cedar. Slowly, I stirred about in the old chest. I came across some old photographs from my younger days. The memories came back so clear. I wore my cowboy hat with my toy gun strapped to my side and rode my stick horse named Buttermilk. There was a photo of me with my front teeth out. One picture was of Mom and Dad standing in front of his old pickup truck. It seemed liked yesterday, but Mom and Dad are gone now. I came across his old smoking pipe and Mom’s old shawl. Carefully, I prowled some more in the old chest. I found one of my report cards. I smiled at my grades. They weren’t too bad. I laughed at what the teacher wrote. He liked to talk a lot.
I paused for a moment as my eyes began to water and the smell of cedar filled the room. I slowly lifted my wife’s wedding dress and held it close to me. In a box next to it, I found her wedding ring. It was tarnished and worn. It was cancer that took her away. I fought back the tears as my heart raced; I glanced down and saw our wedding pictures. She still looks as she did the day I met her. Her smile so warm, eyes so bright, and her laughter was as a song. There were some old 45’s inside the chest. I tapped my foot and hummed the sweet words. I also found some of our children’s pictures. My daughter moved to the big city where she teaches school. She calls me about every day now. My son is in and out. He hasn’t really settled down. I’m beginning to wonder if he ever will. I guess he needs some time. In the back of the chest, I found a small music box. I carefully winded it, trying not to break it. I watched as the ballerina danced. The music entangled with the smell of cedar as the memoires of our family’s first Christmas came back to me. I closed it and held her wedding dress close to me. I wished she was here with me just once more. The music box was a present to her on our first Christmas. Several years have come and gone since then. There have been many changes, some good, bad, and for the best. The good memories outweigh the bad.
It’s amazing to me how one’s life can be contained in a three by six wooden box with a cushion seat top and the fragrant smell of cedar. There was my old glove, Momma’s hair barrette and Daddy’s pocket watch. Through more treasures of my life, I found Sis’s old doll stained with coffee I spilled on it when we were small.
I again reached down into the chest of past dreams and lifted up something of Grandma’s and Grandpa’s. It was Grandma’s half empty snuff box and Grandpa’s wedding ring with nicks, cuts, and scratches from working in the field. I know it has been a long time. I have taken my losses, but I still strive onward. I don’t have the time I started with. I only hope that I have used it wisely. With every bridge you must cross, look behind and stand firm on the good things, but be not moved by the bad.
I even found our son’s first baby tooth. I looked at it and thought how much more he needs me now. We don’t always see eye to eye. We fuss and yell some. I remember how I was when I was young. Maybe someday he’ll sit down and spend some time prowling through his family cedar chest. Maybe someday he’ll catch the smell of cedar and remember.
I prowled a little further to a picture of a Christmas long gone. There we stood by the tree while our children opened their gifts. Why here is one of me eating country ham and biscuits with my Santa’s hat on. There is one of Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa drinking eggnog during Christmas dinner. We weren’t perfect. We had our troubles, but we worked together to get through them the best we could. Without failure, there can be no accomplishments. We tried to pull together even though there were times we were pulled apart. We struggled and failed, but I hope all has not been lost.
I have always loved the smell of cedar, especially when Dad and I would cut a cedar tree and bring it home. It stood tall and decorated in the house. When you brushed against it, you could smell the cedar. At night, with the tree dressed in lights of many color, is when I thought the tree looked its prettiest. The flickering of the fireplace lit up the room. In the cold of the night you could hear the fireplace pop and snap as the smell of cedar hovered about the room.
Oh, I am but a foolish old man now. I have no more boyish dreams. I have learned a few things along the way and I cherish the good memories in my heart. I may never look again in this treasure chest of cedar. But I can truly say that I haven’t lost—I have only gained.