I hate lists.  Making them.  Checking things off.  Yet, without one, life is…there is too much, and I will forget.  As a child misses the step in the staircase at night, forgetting, tumbling headlong into an unknown realm.

We’ve made a list.  It is of the things we must do to leave behind our decades of memories of home.  To begin again.  It is long.  I don’t look at it.  I do the things that are there.  I hope I don’t forget.  That others remember.