The day I went back for my belongings, I brought a list.
The list included two boxes of clothes, my mother's photo album, my identification documents, my baking pans, and the yellow mixing bowl from the kitchen.
Before we left, I checked the list twice. I was afraid I would get nervous once I arrived and forget what I was there to take.
Under the arrangement we'd agreed on, Ben wasn't home. Ruth went inside with me, while the officer assigned to assist remained near the door.
The living room looked exactly as it had when I left. Ben's jacket was draped over the arm of the couch, and unopened mail was piled beneath the television.
I used to believe that without me, small things like that would quickly turn the house into a mess.
Now the house really was messy, and I didn't feel any ur
