There is something disarmingly honest in her responses these days. Like when you ask how she’s doing, she'll consider it and say things like, “well I miss my mom. But she’s been visiting me in my dreams, and told me I need to spend more time barefoot.” And then she will smile and pull you into a hug just slightly longer than is comfortable or appropriate but it feels so warm that you can’t help but lean in. She wants you to feel comfortable, insisting on earnest responses and genuine curiosity. "Fascination is a choice we make over and over," she says and will ask about your heart and you’ll be surprised by the tears streaming down your face. You’ll tell her the ways it’s hurting and find that your grief makes a safe landing in her arms. She will ask about your health and though you’re accustomed to being guarded, you’ll end up telling her that you suffer from ovarian cysts and are afraid or that you have endometriosis and learned you’ll never bear children, or that you are in pain during sex and feel ashamed… and because she believes that choosing love is the only way to heal, she will put one gentle hand on your belly, hold you with soft eyes and tell you that she’s here, because she is, and that we can’t do this without each other, because we can’t.