KENNEWICK — Andy Rooney and I have something in common.
We can’t let go.
This degree of connection surfaced about a week ago when Andy explained on 60 Minutes that he saves everything.
I do, too.
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But Andy was brave enough — or paid enough—to allow the video camera to peruse his office hidey holes where a file cabinet, crammed with manila folders, loomed above brown boxes stuffed into corners. His philosophy is that he might need something someday and there it’ll be, tucked away.
That’s my philosophy, too. Although, I may not have the courage — or get paid enough — to post a photo of everything I’ve saved.
There are pink cardboard storage boxes chock-full of mementos from my television career that I wrangled home when I retired.
That was in 2006. One of these days I’m going to go through them.
Sitting next to my past life are multiple shopping bags jam-packed with papers that need to be filed after I clean out my filing cabinet — or get a bigger one. I’m not sure which will happen first.
But one thing I’m certain of is that Andy and I have something else in common.
We’re sentimental. He saves notes and letters. I do, too.
Andy’s are from famous people, such as Senator Barry Goldwater, Tom Brokaw and Rev. Robert Schuller.
Mine are from ordinary people, such as Marsha, Mel and Vickiy, but they’ve touched my heart just the same. Some are friends. Still more are family. Others were sent by readers and viewers I’ll probably never meet.
They’re in my home office, bursting from every nook and cranny — thank you notes, breast cancer get well cards and messages that encourage or make me laugh. They’re all taking up space.
If I would only toss them out, there’d be room for important items like insurance forms, bank statements and paid bills.
At the moment, though, nothing else seems as important. And like Andy, I’m just not ready to let go.