I save things.

Every year I try to purge my files of things I don't need, but when it comes to my personal files I just can't seem to part with anything. I've saved every letter every written to me, every card, every note jotted on a napkin. It probably stems from low self esteem. I saved all those pieces of paper so that I could look at them later and have proof that people cared about me. It's as though my subconscious thinks that if I throw them away, it's as though they never existed or that connection is broken.

My favorite part about looking at those letters and cards are the ones from my best friend and from my family, especially from my little brother. I still have a card he made and sent to me while I was stationed in Montana (he was 7). It had a drawing of a birthday cake with about 50 candles and on the inside he had painstakingly taped 2 jolly rancher candies. Jackson would always write the sweetest notes in his cards to me. Things like, "It's nice to have a big nice sister. You're nice. Have a nice day!" He didn't have a huge vocabulary, but the sentiment was genuine. The girls would always send me letters saying how much they missed me, and Emily would always include her wonderful depictions of life at the Basey house. Mostly it was pictures of Mary smacking her in the head. HAHAHAHA (I jest!)My mom would always write the sweetest notes telling me that I was smart and beautiful and that I could do anything. I never really believed her, but it felt good to think my Mother believed I was all those things. Even my dad took the time to write me little notes and letters. I cherish them all.

I saved all the letters and postcards from my best friend as well. She's so wise and funny. I loved reading about all her adventures in Europe and college. She always ended her letters with things like,"Remember the ocean, remember that little coffee shop in Redway, remember ballgowns with flip flops, remember portobello mushroom sandwiches up the river!". She had a way of keeping me grounded and crystallizing the memories of our happy times.

As I go through these files I struggle to remember some of the people who wrote me. First names and no dates make it complicated. The military had a way of moving the world in a frenetic rotation of friends and lovers, so some of them escape my memory. Even still, I saved them all. They punctuate my memories and keep me from forgetting everything I've been through and all the experiences that shaped me.

When I finally get them organized, I'm going to scan in a choice few cards and notes that really stick in my mind.... stay tuned.

~e