Your father was a non-renewable resource, and there is a part of me that is miserly about his death. That wants to keep it packaged up just for the two of us, a symbol of our apartness from the rest of the world. We are all that is left of that family of three, the only two who went through the dark together. Your dad’s deathaversary feels like a day that is just for us, so today I packed you into the minivan, kissed Matthew and the rest of the kids good-bye, and headed up to the Rum River.
