For so very many months, even years, as FL’s health deteriorated, I was making plans to leave the farm at the first possible opportunity. My plans kept me going. I held onto the idea of a future that was not bound to him to keep myself sane, to give myself hope that I would not collapse without him there. It had not ever occurred to me that the farm would not even be mine to sell until probate is confirmed, which at the earliest will be 6 months after his death. But I was ready to go, to run away into the sunset.