There are leaning stacks of filled journals on my dresser.
What the hell am I going to do with them?
It's not as simple as "Burn'em."
Not when there are treasures inside.
This two-sided letter was sent to me when I lived in Saskatoon with Cathy as my roommate. I was 19, Karen was 17 and away at school, and Joan would have been 10. Mom was 36: