First Memory – Stepping precariously into a rowboat from a small dock on a crisp winter day, with an older couple I don’t know well – friends of my parents, I guess. Later, from their living room, we watched snow fall in the woods through a sliding glass door. I remember the woman reached down to stroke my sister’s hair – this was meaningful to me, probably, because my sister had recently been diagnosed with cancer (she survived), and everything surrounding her felt strangely sad and important.