I began choosing slowly.

Keep the early letters.

Keep the photographs.

Keep the things I could explain wanting.

Leave decisions about the rest until I could make them without panic.

It was enough to prevent one tired afternoon from deciding what I would miss later.

When Samantha described possessions as lost, I trusted her partly because I understood how easily a grieving person could fail to find something in front of them.

I had spent an entire morning looking for a document already on the table.