I recently found this old box of cassette tapes that I recorded when I was a child.  The tapes were found at the bottom of a cardboard box my father packed away when we moved to my second home back in the 1980s. Clearly, my father kept nearly everything of my childhood, regardless of how insignificant. Perhaps in hopes that one day I might come across these relics of my childhood for some much needed nostalgia.  Or perhaps it was something more; an innate ability to let go of the past.