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A rainy day — unexpected in California. We loaded up our many cans and bottles and drove them to the recycling center in the parking lot of Target. We arrived efficiently, prepared to do this quickly. No one was there. We stood in the gray pause of it — that moment when plans dissolve and you realize you are stuck between what you expected and what is actually happening . The rain clouds thickened. Two young children. No snacks. No backup plan. We decided to wait. And so we

In 2006, I graduated from University of California, San Diego with two bachelor’s degrees. I finished my final classes days before I was married. I did not want to attend graduation. Sitting in the coastal humidity listening to hundreds of names felt unnecessary. Especially with a wedding days later because of an unplanned pregnancy and miscarriage. It was a complicated season. There wasn’t much celebration around that accomplishment. And I didn’t really pause to celebrate it

There were three different sets of parents, each holding their own child, each granted one wish. The first said, “I wish for my child to have success.” The second said, “I wish for my child to have happiness.” The third said, “I wish for my child to have goodness.” At first glance, the wishes seem nearly the same. But they grow into very different lives. A child raised toward success may learn to strive, achieve, accumulate. Success often measures itself in titles, wealth,

My mother is the neck—and the heart—of my family. When my recent relationships needed repair, she was the one who reached out. That surprised me. We had perfected the art of shunning. Silence could stretch for so long as my Dad could withstand it. Pride could calcify into distance. And yet, when it mattered most, she texted me- "Why raise your daughter to be a lady, when you can raise your daughter to be a warrior." Tonight, after an hour-long conversation—the kind that hadn’