A couple of those boxes contained records from my father, who left us four years ago. Tax returns, legal papers of every sort, some photos, work-related keepsakes...those things that can form the outline for one's life experiences. I also found a number of boxes containing unused bank checks, originally to be used to pay assorted expenses and fund those activities Dad enjoyed.
Going through those things was a rather grim task. So many things that we feel have all-important value to the living, take on a much different meaning after death. I felt as though I was closing a final chapter by disposing of those things, and it brought a great sadness to my heart. How could I possibly destroy all those things that had such importance for so long?
Due to the sensitive nature of those items, most had to be shredded or burned to insure no one could use them for illegal purposes. Thankfully, seeing how I felt, my wife offered to start a campfire in the back yard and destroy the items, everything except the one item she held back and presented to me...Dad's last printed check, still in its shiny shipping box.
That one was sent—slowly and reluctantly—through our paper shredder, in what was quite probably my last duty as the executor of his estate.
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