There are times when parenthood seems nothing more than feeding the hand that bites you.

As for the bracelet Mom wore to the funeral, what I did was I converted Dad’s last voice message into Morse code, and I used sky-blue beads for silence, maroon beads for breaks between letters, violet beads for breaks between words, and long and short pieces of string between the beads for long and short beeps, which are actually called blips, I think, or something. Dad would have known.

Having my son has changed so much of what I dream about. It used to be about business, business, what's the next deal? What's the next movie? Now it's about him.

Brain scans show synchrony between the brains of mother and child; but what they can't show is the internal bond that belongs to neither alone, a fusion in which the self feels so permeable it doesn't matter whose body is whose.

Growing up in the rural south, my family didn't look like our neighbors, and we didn't have much. There were times that were tough, but we had each other, and we had the opportunity to do anything, to be anything, as long as we were willing to work for it.

Since I was sent to an orphanage, and I saw very little of my mother, I can counsel mothers that you shouldn't abandon your children. Before you bring a child into the world, think deeply about things, so that they lack absolutely nothing, least of all love.