Keys

So after finding a new home for prescriptions, I went back to the bag of her lasting remains.

This was a designer knapsack purchased for way too much from one of those chic boutique shops on Cary Street. She picked it out and liked it, so it was worth it.

This bag had been hanging on the inside of the closet door with whatever important information I thought I might need to reference in one place. What was left?

Some cough drops that had melted remained with a pair of reading glasses, driver licenses, IDs, and a social security card, and a bunch of keys.

I cut up all the IDs and licenses and have no more record of her SS number. The glasses and the empty bag went into the trash.

Looking at all the keys without any tags or identification was the next investigation. There were keys to cars long gone, locks on bikes that were stolen, skeleton keys to doors with new locks, keys to discontinued lockers and safe deposit boxes and some that may be duplicates to the ones I carry everyday.

Should I have tried out all the keys?

Now other than the photos posted her and the public records of her berth and death, there is nothing left? Anyone else who may have known her through the years are long gone and forgotten.

There are no markers or obituaries or memoires to remind people of the existence of this person.

And when I’m gone…

Just another life.