What changed everything was a shoebox, which is not a grand thing for a life to turn on, but the true turning points rarely are.

I was clearing out the top of the hall closet — one of those retirement projects you invent to fill the terrible time — and a shoebox came down off the shelf and spilled, and there on the hallway floor were the photographs.

Us.

Young.

The dance hall.

The wedding spin, both of us mid-laugh.

A strip from a photo booth, four frames of two kids in love making faces.

A dried corsage.