In the process of clearing clutter, I took out a big drawer full of letters saved from the past 30 years. Letters written to my mom and sister from my India trip at 20, letters to my father from Thailand and New York, letters to me from my mom and sister, and those I kept from girlfriends and ex-boyfriends… piles and piles of paper!

I started to read some. I’ve never liked revisiting my younger self. I usually leave her behind with the self-critical voice that comes with reading these letters…I put each one into 2 big garbage bags to take to the basement. That afternoon I spoke with my son and told him about the old letters, the boredom I felt reading them, and my plan to toss them.

Me: “I’m throwing them all out. There’s nothing there to read. All quite boring.”
Ido: “So don’t read them Mom, but please don’t throw them away. Let me read them and see what I can learn. There are many things in our history you don’t always share and these letters might.”Ido raised an interesting point. Let him explore. I kept the 2 bags of letters.