Spent all day yesterday cleaning out the attic (which annoyingly involved unpacking every, single box, checking for stinkbugs, and then repacking). Among the things I repacked were several boxes of J's childhood stuff. Repacking up my own such stuff triggered a flood of very strong emotions. I literally have a ziploc bag of cards given to my mother
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I apparently did, right after my mom moved out, cull another handful of photos from those missing albums to give to her - she says I put them in an envelope labeled "Contraband" :-)- so maybe there will be a few more that were saved. So that's something anyway!
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