Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?

So, my mother has moved into a giant new house where all of my childhood detritus is not welcome. I was asked (very nicely, in fact) to consolidate the boxes of my stuff that had been moved from one city to another to another over the past 5 years. 

I had actually done a great job with a purge before move #1, so there was not all that much crap for me to dispose. However, the stuff that I did find brought me through a crazy ride on the nostalgia train.

I found my elementary school yearbook and a program from a talent show (where I twirled baton). I found the batons (two regular ones and one lighted one). I found a box of my old oil painting supplies from my creativity kick in senior year. I found old copies of the Spec and old copies of my hometown newspaper and my high school paper. I found my old fishbowl filled with press passes from my time shooting at Colorado. I found the “happy box”, a collection of old cards, letters, corsages, papers, and photos from high school. I started going through each paper, reading the letters one by one, but had to stop. It was too much. The memories were too much.

Suffice it to say that I have all kinds of awesome photos coming over the next week or so from my trip home and pieces of me that I found (I seem to do this every time I spend time at home, don’t I?) and that I have had some of the best friends known to man. No wonder I had such a hard time finding great friends in NY and in DC—I don’t think they make ‘em like they do in Colorado. I had a stack of letters from one best friend alone telling me to keep my head up time and time again over the three years we overlapped in high school.    

While old acquaintance(s) may not be a part of my life anymore, they cannot ever be forgotten. Good memories and good friends are too rare and too dear to willfully neglect.

TL;DR: I miss you guys.