Last night I was getting a shirt from one of my dresser drawers. When I closed it the vibrations caused my old hand carved Japanese box to fall, spilling the contents all over the floor. I've had this ornate box since I was a boy. It holds small treasures such as childhood tie clips, cuff links, kiddie pilot wings and guitar picks and so on. It sits next to my more modern box and honestly I hadn't opened it in years.

One of the treasures that spilled out was a copy of a "last will" I wrote at age ten. I even typed it in my version of official style. I don't remember doing it nor do I remember the motivation at the time. But it was well thought out yet simple.

I stated in it that at my services I wanted my zippered bible to be placed with me. My huge air force of model planes were to go to my father. As did my shortwave radio. Most of my books were to go to mom. My sister got my toys, but I wonder what use she'd have for cap guns. That summed it up except for my skateboard. I left it to my friend who lived just down the street.

Too bad things are so much more complicated now.