Romantic Dumpsters

Boxes. Boxes. Boxes. Everywhere I look. Boxes. Trash. Boxes.

Lately I've felt like my entire world is one big box. A box to unwrap, unpack, peel a tiny sticker off, rinse and put away. But then, there leaves the empty box. And that box becomes another box and another and another until that pile consumes my entire kitchen. And I have a moment where I might just explode. But then we take a trip to the dumpster. And it is all released, thrown away and new again.

I can't help but laugh about how much my newlywed life has revolved around a dumpster. The countless trips to the illegal dumpster where we go at night so we don't attract the poor restaurant owner who has to wonder why every morning there are more Bed Bath and Beyond boxes in his dumpster, than his own leftover food.

But I was thinking this morning about our romantic dumpster trips. Because every box we throw away is a small piece of our old lives going away, leaving small spaces for our new life. The cieling-high piles are dwindling, leaving room for shiny new toys; and photos of the wedding are being moved into the spaces that once held stacks of wedding planning books.

I'll be glad when all of the boxes are gone. But can't wait to see all that remains in our new life together.