I dug through the pile and each book brought back moments of reading to my son. Yes, these were baby books, but they were my baby’s books. This is one of the things I hold on to in my hesitation to read ebooks: the physical book soaks up the moments. Files remind me of nothing. The dog-eared copy of The Owl and the Pussycat can sit beside my bed like an artifact. And it does. How does one display a file? How does a hard drive foster nostalgia?