Daniel’s Thanksgiving note had been attached to the refrigerator with it.

On the day I moved out, I took the magnet but left the note.

The note belonged with the household whose decisions it represented.

The magnet belonged to a memory of a child handing me a craft project with glue still drying around the edges.

I didn’t want to lose the second memory because the first one hurt.

For several months, the magnet stayed in a kitchen drawer.

Then one morning, I found it while looking for a rubber band.