In no particular order they would be:
My child is beautiful and sometimes she looks like Jack Nicholson in The Shining in photographs that I take, and this entertains me and can make me laugh out loud.
The same reality of the last chapter used to make me cry for very different reasons.
The embodied experience of being regulated.
Why my daughter and my father are so much fun to make fun of. And how I couldn’t adore either of them any less.
Thank you so much to the doctors in my child’s life, and also I really have a thing or two or more to teach you about whole being medicine.
The thing I resist the most is the doorway to my greatest transformation.
On how I am still coo coo for cocopuffs for my beloved. And why I continue to delight myself in this kind of reverence.
That relationships are ridiculously hard and also the most magical.
On how I feel like I know nothing and sometimes I amaze myself.
My child is not able to use words but speaks volumes. Do you know how to listen?
I miss my dad most every damn day. And that hurts in the best/worst way.
That I now know I enjoy participating in memorial services.