ALL THOSE YEARS I was always ready when the time came to leave, yet Arthur teased. He said, “I thought you wanted to stay.” Aunt Frances, too; my Aunt Frances said, “Now you’re sure? We have room.” Nonna was fretting when I left her, kneading the blanket’s silk banding even as she turned to be fed.
I was glad to be the one leaving—for camps and schools and college—but my intention was always to come back.