I have been unpacking since our move in September. Both literally and figuratively. Boxes and totes and emotions and feelings. Each box bringing up memories of a former life, a full life as a family of four. A life of happiness and laughter and love and sadness and hospital trips and cancer. It’s been a daunting task to keep all the memories, happy and sad untangled. To not feel a wave of sadness as I come across an old bottle of Matt’s medication, or hospital badges, or records of cars long since sold. I have lost myself looking through his clothes, old pictures, just knick-knacks long forgotten. There was much excitement of a new start in a new house. But the way things worked out, by the time I had the assurance my buyers wanted to proceed with the deal to the time I needed to move, I had ten days to pack up and go. I felt confident that we could do this. I mean we moved from Michigan to North Carolina to Kansas in a span of three years. Ten ...