“Just toss it!” is the rallying cry of these weeks. But some items we simply can’t bring ourselves to discard. 9 writers share
“We have the l’chayim pictures,” she shrugged. “Why would I save extra junk?”
I say she’s a cold fish, she says I’m a hoarder. Keeping the fax (remember faxes?) I sent my husband the Shabbos of his aufruf, my babies’ hospital bracelets, and the “gold” brooch my grandmother gave me in high school (those were all the rage pinned onto the lapels of our Shabbos coats) is not called hoarding. It means I have a heart. I’m nostalgic.
Doesn’t it?
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