I open my closet, yanking my desk chair behind me. I try to make the chair stable over the mounds of clothes covering the floor of my closet. It looks like a volcano erupted with clothes. I step on the flimsy chair and reach for the blue, felt box on the top shelf of my closet. The box that my grandma passed down to my mom and now it was mine. I yank down this box and take it into my room. I carefully lift the lid of the box off and fall into a deep stage of nostalgia…

“A new baby has arrived!” I was just born and my whole family was visiting me in the hospital.

“Happy Golden Birthday!” It's my fourth, golden birthday and I am prancing around in my tinkerbell outfit playing with all the new toys I just opened.

“Double Digits!” It’s my tenth birthday and I was just surprised with a trip to disney with my family. 

“New Teenager Alert!” It’s my thirteenth birthday and I feel unstoppable because I am finally a teenager. 

“Happy Graduation!” It's my eighth grade graduation and I’m terrified, but also excited for highschool.

“Sweet Sixteen!” It’s my sixteenth birthday and I can finally drive!

…Cards hold so many memories. To other people they may just seem like a yearly “Happy Birthday,” but to me they mean so much more. They hold memories both good and bad and small details often forgotten when looking back at the past. These are memories that I want to keep forever. I will always treasure my blue box because it is the home to these memories. Anytime I need some reminding, I go to my closet and open the box and fall back into the same reminiscing phase.