Dear Annie: I’m a happily married almost-70-year-old woman who has been sorting and purging the contents of boxes in my attic in preparation for downsizing. I was surprised to find one shoe box stuffed full of letters that an old high school boyfriend, “Dave,” wrote to me during his first year in college. I reread enough of these letters to realize that what he wrote was much less about his romantic feelings for me at the time than it was about his own perception of his college experience and even his relationship with his parents.

My question is whether I should return these letters to him (I can find his address on the internet) or chuck them into the recycle bin.

I have no interest in renewing any contact with Dave. I am not even going to my 50-year high school reunion this year, where I might run into him. In other words, if I were to return these letters, it would not be in hopes of seeing him again or even eliciting a response. Because I am in the process of writing my own memoirs, I do sense the value these letters might have for this man.

He would read about his day-to-day experience at college — a prestigious Ivy League school, I might add — and based on my peek into his letters, he would have the opportunity to read his own impressions about his relationship with his father, a man probably long dead. In this era of ephemeral communication via email and text, these handwritten letters strike me as potentially priceless to this man.

I brought up my dilemma with my husband, a sensible man whom I adore. He suggested that often the past is better left in the past, an adage I agree with heartily. What do you suggest I do? — Time Capsule in My Attic

Dear Time Capsule: Your husband is right that sometimes the past is better left alone. However, this is about Dave’s past, not yours. Why not let Dave decide whether or not to leave it alone? Send him the letters, along with a cover note explaining what they are and telling him that he can feel free to recycle them if he’d like but you didn’t feel right throwing them out. What a treasure-trove this could be for him and for any children or grandchildren he might have. And you will be able to feel good knowing you’ve gone out of your way to do a kind thing for an old friend.

Dear Annie: I am a woman in my late 30s marrying the woman of my dreams this fall. I will not be inviting my mother or, by extension, my father. Everyone seems to assume this is because they are opposed to gay marriage or are some sort of religious zealots. This is not true at all. They are fine with gay marriage, and in fact, we pretty much agree politically on all points. They just don’t like me as a person. That is sad but also fine, as I don’t really like them, either. So how do I navigate this? I don’t want people maligning them as bigots, because they are not. They are just regular, run-of-the-mill jerks. I don’t want them anywhere near me at my wedding. I don’t like them, and though I do feel some sort of suppressed glee that everyone thinks they are horrible, I don’t want people thinking they are horrible for the wrong reasons. Thoughts? — Confused

Dear Confused: It’s not your job to run PR for your parents in addition to planning your wedding. Still, it’s mature of you to want to correct the record. I’ve found that often the most graceful way of dealing with such complicated social situations is to have a concise canned response ready to go — for instance, “My parents and I aren’t close, so I’ve decided not to invite them.” If the person expresses outrage or sympathy on the presumption that your parents are refusing to attend because you’re marrying a woman, a simple “I appreciate your concern, but that’s not the issue” ought to do. Then let it go. Some people will insist on careening toward their own conclusions. So be it. If we were responsible for monitoring every wrong assumption about our private lives, we’d probably all go bonkers. Best wishes to you and your wife-to-be.

Dear Annie: I am tall. Flying is miserable. In addition to having no legroom, I find that the area under the seat in front of me rarely has any room for my feet after I stow my CPAP, so my knees are especially vulnerable to the seat in front of me.

At the earliest opportunity to speak to the person in front of me on a flight (during boarding if possible, but not during safety announcements!), I let the person know that a tall person is seated behind him/her and ask him/her to give me a warning when (s)he plans to recline so I can protect my knees.

I explain that his/her courtesy warning will give me an opportunity to shift in the seat and point my knees away from the center of the seat back as best I can. Only rarely does that person completely ignore the implications of his/her actions on my anatomy. — Florida Lady

Dear Florida Lady: I expected a whole lot of hullabaloo in response to “Cramped in the Cabin’s” letter — angry parties on both sides of the issue. On the contrary, everyone who’s written in so far has been empathetic, understanding and more frustrated at the airlines for putting people in such cramped quarters than at other passengers. What a pleasant surprise.

Editor’s note: “Ask Me Anything: A Year of Advice From Dear Annie” is out now! Annie Lane’s debut book — featuring favorite columns on love, friendship, family and etiquette — is available as a paperback and e-book. Visit http://www.creatorspublishing.com for more information. Send your questions for Annie Lane to dearannie@creators.com.