job.
Until the baby arrived.
The duration was always temporary.
My responsibility to absorb the problem was permanent.
I walked into my bedroom.
The first box contained clothes and shoes.
The second held photographs from my dresser.
The third contained files from my desk.
Taxes.
Insurance documents.
Property records.
Financial papers.
One folder had been shoved in upside down.
I picked it up.
My mother had opened my desk drawers and packed my financial records.
That changed something.
Until then, I could still imagine this as a terrible assumption made
