The letters told a story of young lovers finding times to meet each other. After school they would meet and sneak around because it was not supposed to be. The letters told of longings and dreams. Somewhere along the way life got in the way and now we sat in an empty apartment reading those letters and others that told of a life that had morphed into a different story. Maybe trying to be so different they continued to separate themselves from others or was it self imposed judgements or did they  just like being alone. Hard to say. But now it is gone and there is a broken line between then and now. Always lessons. Connect with family. Stay true to a dream. Support the ones following behind. Be the connecting tissue in the family. Without that the boxes are put away and the letters travel back in time and vanish. Don't vanish…not even in death.