At the end of the year I try to clean up old news and put away what are memories and what is trash.
I carry a large round key ring with a tangle of jangle. Some are to open a door or lock a lock or keep the outside out and the inside safe.
Through the years I found it necessary to lock away my secrets. Those around me learned to respect my allusion of having some private special items and they built their own walls.
Anything that we hold valuable we want to preserve in a safe place. Some are kept from other’s eyes and some are displayed with sarcastic pride. Like a museum or a bank we can view what should be cherished but locked away.
So I’m looking at all these keys and wondering? I have half the amount of keys that I used to have. Locks and more locks and more lock guarding my secrets.
I look at my dwindling group of keys and wonder do I have less to protect and preserve or does it matter?
Like going through your parent’s private correspondence or photos of people you have no idea who they are, who’s secrets are important?
There are a half a dozen keys to locks I couldn’t match without hours of investigation and is it worth it? If it has been locked away for so long does it need to be opened?
Unfortunately there are keys to the inner sanctum of the heart no one can open. At least, it cannot be opened without a key.