I’m fairly good at tossing stuff- it is my day job after all- with one fairly gigantic exception. Letters. I can’t throw out letters. Remember when people used to write to each other? Like with a pen and paper?One of the accidental gifts of life on lockdown has been to revisit my own personal archives. Pictures and cards and old journals- it’s been very easy to look up and realize hours have gone by, as I’ve delved into the past. It’s wonderful and weird and emotionally exhausting.I’ve sometimes wondered over the years, as I’ve carried these heavy boxes of memorabilia through out the different phases of my life: why am I saving all these? When will I ever have the time to look at them again? What- do I think there’s going to be some Museum of Me when I’m gone? It turns out I was, without knowing it, saving them for this moment. So, take an old dusty box and get lost down memory lane. There’s not a lot of chances to do it- to take stock, literally.And maybe, just for the hell of it, write someone a letter. Especially at times like these, connection can make all the difference.