Dad’s letters to mom. Neatly tied in batches by Mom, then clearly labeled, perfectly stacked in a blue striped hat box.

Mom’s social security card, Mom’s Irish Passport

My graduation certificate from Wendy Ward Charm School

Julia Child Cookbook stained with my father’s first attempt at Coq au Vin

Envelope from Evan at 7 years old, sent from his dad’s house,the contents long gone, postage 29cents, addressed in red ink, simply to “Shivaun, 21 West Union Street, Wilkes-Barre,” with light pencil marks to keep his writing writing in line

My brother’s high school year book

 

Things that I will never use, but I can’t throw away.