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Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn’t love me – I felt the wash of her love every day.

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Brother Daughter Day Every Lover Mom More She

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I watched as she added a question mark at the end. Arc, line, space, dot.
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But the sky is interesting, it changes all the time.
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You can ruin anything if you focus at it.
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This is why everyone who eats a Whopper leaves a little more depressed than they were when they came in. Nobody cooked that burger.
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I like birthday cake. It’s so symbolic. It’s a tempting symbol to load with something more complicated than just ‘Happy birthday!’ because it’s this emblem of childhood and a happy day.
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That she might not actually know us seemed the humblest thing a mother could admit.
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She is the first gesture that creates a quiet that is full enough to make the baby sleep. My genes, my love, are rubber bands and rope; make yourself a structure you can live inside. Amen.
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It is so often surprising, who rescues you at your lowest moments.
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