My Dad???s To-Do List for When He Dies

Myfather removes the stapled sheets of paper from his back pocket. He points at the kitchen table. It’s his signal to my sister and me to have a seat.

“I need ten minutes,” he says. “I have to talk to you about something.”

Our minds leap to worst-case scenarios. “Are you okay?” Jennifer asks.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m fine, but…” His voice trails off.

He unfolds the document — at least six pages thick — as if he’s about to read a speech.

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