Don't waste time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind.

Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young.

TV happens. And once it's happened, it's gone. When it's gone, you move on, no tears, no tantrums, no videotape

Like many women my age, I am 28 years old.

Here's a thing about the death of your mother, or anyone else you love: You can't anticipate how you'll feel afterward. People will tell you; a few may be close to right, none exactly right.

You can map your life through your favorite movies, and no two people's maps will be the same.

I couldn't have foreseen all the good things that have followed my mother's death. The renewed energy, the surprising sweetness of grief. The tenderness I feel for strangers on walkers. The deeper love I have for my siblings and friends. The desire to play the mandolin. The gift of a visitation.