A Christmas letter to my estranged daughters. This year cracked me open in the best possible way — therapy, bipolar treatment, transformation. I’m not the same person I was. I’m not asking them to forget the past. I’m asking for a future where we get to find out who we’ve all become. I miss them…
The last few weeks have been some of the best of my life and some of the hardest. New partnerships, 17 mile walks, personal records, full heart. Also: a shame tornado, then a shame hurricane, then a second wave that took everything out. On my 199th day without smoking I had a lit cigarette in…