The Things I Carry

I carry with me my own belongings as well as others’. My backpack is heavy, but I am strong and young, and I can carry the weight. Inside my backpack I carry many things. I carry things that are mine, and I carry things that are my family’s. I carry a picture of my father and I. He is smiling and holding me tightly. I am smiling too. However, my smile doesn’t express true happiness. Then again I have no other smile to compare it to. I admire the photograph every second I can And I remind myself that I cannot miss my father’s embraces. I must continue on my journey and avoid looking back. I carry many items of my own and many items that belong to my family. I carry a wallet without any money, only picture of a happy family. I carry this wallet to remind me of the happiness that money cannot bring. This is a happiness found deep within one’s self And deep within those closest to him. I do not know how to pull out this deeply buried happiness But I do know that money does not do the job. I carry this wallet as a reminder of that. I carry with me my own belongings as well as theirs. They are my family. I carry with me their most profound confessions. I carry with me my mother’s long nights of emotional pain. I carry with me her days of depression. I carry with me her biggest successes. I carry with me my mother’s burden of bills to pay and mouths to feed And every dollar she receives and the hope of escaping from this ocean of debt. I cannot carry with me more money so I carry an empty wallet. I carry with me my younger sister’s drawings. She draws pictures of a happy family in a happy home, a fairy godmother And a princess And her prince fictional creatures And beautiful landscapes. I carry my own drawings of what I imagine happiness might look like. Sometimes I carry a bouquet of flowers like the ones in my sister’s drawings. I carry with me a list of names. It is a short list that includes only two names so far. These two names that I have loved profoundly, have changed my life forever. I always, always carry with me a pair of drumsticks. They represent more than just a wooden tool used to play an instrument. They are my most recent discovery of temporary happiness. When I carry my drumsticks I know That I am very close to a few minutes of joy as soon as I use them on a drum. I carry with me many of my own belongings as well as my family’s. I carry our past. I carry our present. I carry our future. I carry a father’s absence. I carry a mother’s pain. I carry a sister’s world of fantasy. I carry my own search for happiness. For now, I carry my drumsticks.