Cleaning up after themselves was a low priority for Margo and my mother. They had both recovered from cancer scares, failed marriages, and lost hope; in their opinion, dirt could wait.

But most important of all, she explained that it was all right to say 'No. I disagree.' that was a gift. I understood it was power. The power to think my own thoughts. The power to believe in myself.

Some things, when they change, never do return to the way they once were. Butterflies for instance, and women who've been in love with the wrong man too often.

Some fates are guaranteed, no matter who tries to intervene.

Burn me. Drown me. Tell me lies. I will still be who I am.

Another world must surely exist somewhere one where she would be known in some deep way that was far beyond words.

If we had paid attention, we would have understood there are some things in this world you cannot outrun.