When my niece was here, I took her to Michael’s. She’s a mini-me, it’s hilarious. We’d stop in front of the same shelf and stare at the same products with the same expression. We are completely in tune, on the same weird wavelength. You can’t transmit this kind of thing by phone or through a screen.

My sister and I would go outside after putting kids to bed and sit on the patio, and have really deep conversations.

Now I’m sitting here alone, crying. I don’t know when I’ll see them again.

Too Early

Yesterday Klara asked me what the biggest mistakes of my life were. I was hoping to delay that conversation for at least a decade. You should have seen me squirm under a judgmental gaze of a five-year-old.

It all started when the priest said in his sermon that we shouldn’t criticize others because we have all made mistakes. Then it just snowballed from there.