when I was cleaning out a repository of unknown papers and magazines and notebooks and other detritus whence I know not. In addition to birthday cards, letters, a torn-out profile of Alec Baldwin, photographs, tarot cards, little notebooks, I found these:
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a notebook with the menu of what we ate at the Mermaid Cafe on Dame Street in Dublin. |
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a letter sent to me from The Dominican Republic |
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a graduation announcement from my daughter-in-law |
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the flyer I made for my son's farewell open house-- right before he went to Singapore |
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a sweet letter that made me cry, written by my daughter when she was organizing and cleaning my kitchen as a Mother's Day present |
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Happy Thanksgiving! Love, William |
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Ticket stub from when Dr. Write and I were in New York at AWP, and we went to see Stoppard, and we both cried |
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'the Atlantic is a Lethean stream, in our passage over which we have had an opportunity to forget the old world and its institutions.' from 'Walking,' H.D. Thoreau. I saw this manuscript, written in Thoreau's hand, in the Concord Public Library. |
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a merit badge that never found its way to a sash.
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