Don't Waste Your One Beautiful Life.

My Daughter, Grace, Was Not Killed By A Gun. She Died Suddenly At Age 5 From A Virulent Form Of Strep. As I Stood Stunned In A Church At Her Memorial, One Of The Hardest Things I Heard Someone Say Was, 'i'm Going To Go Home And Hug My Child A Little Tighter.' 'well, Good For You,' I Thought. 'i'm Going To Go Home And Scream.'

My Cousins And I Used To Play Beatle Wives. We All Wanted To Be Married To Paul, But John Was O.k. Too. None Of Us Wanted Ringo. Or Even Worse, George.

No One Can Write Like Cheryl Strayed.

I Am The Woman With The Cool Vintage Glasses... I Am The Proud Wife Beside Her Husband... I Am The Writer Who Has Written A New Novel.

Grief Doesn't Have A Plot. It Isn't Smooth. There Is No Beginning And Middle And End.