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One morning, not too many years ago, I woke up to discover that my parents were people.

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The truth is, when you’re a child raised by parents who struggle with loving one another for the entirety of your life, you adopt their pain and their struggle becomes yours too.

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My dad was my best friend. He was my partner in crime.

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Thank you for loving me.

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My blue-collar parents worked to their bones to send me to college and are still laden with loans from the pursuit. But it was their joy to do it. And it was my joy to go; I won’t argue that.

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Thank you for teaching her what real love does not look like.

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It’s okay to be sad, it’s okay to be angry, its okay to not want to get out of bed and it’s okay to feel nothing. 

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The mental load of parenting is insane.

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I always knew Oregon’s seasons were special.

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I still pick up the phone to call you. I still forget that we don’t have you.