Mortician of Memories

At work i unpack all the unwanted and disregarded items of peoples lives
Most no surprise, broken clocks, excess party gift bags, glass plates and old china
I toss the glass into a recycling can
They break and shatter and sound like quick screams suddenly silenced
Like any line of work you do this unconsciously without thought
Cracked vase, now shattered, rinse repeat

But sometimes, wrapped tightly in paper and plastic bags are items
Handmade porcelain trinkets made by kids
Mugs that in sloppy red dripping paint saying best dad ever
Tiles with hearts and butterflies engraved leaving semi sharp edges
Kiln hardened cats painted blue and green
With an owners name gently carved into the bottom
Separating it from the dozens of other children's pieces
All drying and waiting to do home
Sit on a shelf to warm themselves with layers of dust
Technicolor and heavy
A weight of the old memories of childhood

There is no value to them in this store
No one wants to purchase someone elses memories when they are that deep

When i remove forgotten photos in frames
I take a moment to take in their moment
A wedding, a new baby. Smiles and hugs
Strangers to me
But looking into this moment of their lives i feel so intrusive
I feel like a peeping tom looking through windows i dont belong

I take the time to place their photos in the recycling a little more gently than the rest of the trash
I try not to shatter Tommys vase, adolescent hands that painted uneven stripes

If i am the last person to handle these memories
I lay them to rest gently