After a summer evening with their four children, the author's husband confided to her that he had been having a mild, persistent "ping" of abdominal pain. Four days later, they learned he had pancreatic cancer, and he had become a full-time patient. After a Thursday family movie night at the end of a school year and beginning of summer, the author's husband confided to her that for the past six weeks he had been having a mild but persistent "ping" of upper quadrant abdominal pain. An internist, he was well attuned to possible signals of trouble, and had gone to his own internist earlier that day and had an x-ray taken. By Monday, they would learn he had inoperable pancreatic cancer despite not having any family history or risk factors for it. Their family's story weaves together stories we steward, for better and worse, about those we love and who share our lives and cross our paths. A last taste of lemon, a Fenway fly ball, or a penny flattened on railroad tracks can capture decades of friendship and improbable hope, and become portals to our pasts and our children's hoped-for futures. Kirkus Reviews writes: "Glennon's experiences are limned in a nuanced, delicate prose that fits perfectly in a nuanced, delicate prose that fits perfectly in a poignant story about navigating the intricate, emotional folds of a family's struggle to process terminal illness and the selfless beauty and release of palliative care.... This is a searingly candid, potent story about unexpected illness, loss, and what it truly means to be human" and a "powerful, heart-wrenching cancer chronicle of enduring love and compassionate care."