Ralph and I spent the immediate months after Aaron died living out of a suitcase, flying back and forth across the country to visit friends and family. We’d travel on one-way tickets, so as not to get trapped into a particular itinerary. We’d overstay our welcome in guest rooms and guesthouses. We’d go back to Minneapolis for a few days at a time, only to check our mail and pack some new clothes. We were in between homes.
