“I don’t know. At some point, I’m going to have to ask Dad. Just ask him. Do you think it’s too late? He seems so lucid sometimes.”

“I think it’s worth a shot, Lena. I think we have to try. Or spend forever making up stories to fill in that empty space.”

•   •   •

The day slipped away as Colleen sat at her dad’s kitchen table and made four more calls: four more interviews with neighbors, teachers and friends about the photos that remained. These covered years she could recall herself, as it was the time from her eighth through twelfth grade years. Nothing new came to light in the conversations, just shared laughter and the usual confession of love for Dad. No one spoke of his diagnosis or his time in Ireland. This kept her mind far from the baby book; far from the unexplained spaces in the timeline.

Beckett called in the middle of her work and asked if she’d like to go out to dinner by the river. She agreed without missing a beat and continued with the stories.

When she’d finished, she sorted through the papers that the social worker had left behind. Hallie had divided the papers and marked them with sticky notes, assigning each of the siblings a task. Call insurance company. Call local memory care services to inquire about at-home care. Make sure all financial records have been acquired. It was a long list, an arduous list, and more than once Colleen thought about how very many people had to navigate this path alone. She was grateful—for the first time in a decade—she was grateful for her sister.

When she’d done enough for the day, she allowed herself to mull over the offer to write a travel memoir. Ten Tips? A Life of Travel? What would this book be, if anything at all? The idea began to move inside her without her permission, growing without her even paying it much mind. The minute she allowed her consciousness to touch upon the idea of writing the book, to draw close to it, she found that the seed had sprouted already. There were ideas and quotes and moments that came to her; in her mind she was already outlining the book.

Could she do it? Yes, it seemed she might. She had stories to tell, wisdom to impart, or at least wisdom that had to do with traveling. With her pen in hand, she began to scribble titles on a blank sheet of paper: The Traveler’s Guide. Girl Around the Globe. One More Trip. Land to Land. Sea to Sea. The World as Home.