The next hatbox I pulled off the top shelf of the closet nearly tipped me off the ladder. It was the weight that surprised me; it was far too heavy for just a hat. As I regained my balance, I wondered why this one weighed more than the others. I set it on the vanity and started untying the strings.

I was curious to see if it would reveal any secrets about my mother, although I wasn’t expecting too much. All the other hatboxes contained... well, actual hats. Women’s hats from the 1950s and 1960s with velvet, lace, feathers, and fur. It was a bittersweet nostalgia trip as my family inventoried the contents of my mother’s house. She had passed away six months earlier.

I lifted the lid and found photographs. Hundreds of black and white photos... some of them dating back to the American Civil War. They were photos I had never seen before. Pictures of people... presumably relatives... but I didn’t know that for sure. It was a mystery, and one that I knew I would have to solve.

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