“One of them is probably Michael, I think. All I have to do to find my dad is go to church.”

“Where's your dad?""Gone. Where does he go, anyway?""He probably has work to do.""Yeah, gotta go burn a bush for Moses.”

“I wanted to tell you that wherever I am, whatever happens, I’ll always think of you, and the time we spent together, as my happiest time. I’d do it all over again, if I had the choice. No regrets.”

“This is the part where my life becomes all apocalyptic, I think.”

“I close my eyes again. There’s the smell of mountain snow on the air. I shiver. I would have brought a coat if I’d known I was going to be in Wyoming today. I’m a wuss about cold.You’re my California flower, I remember Tucker saying to me once. We were sitting on the pasture fence at the Lazy Dog, watching his dad break in a colt, the leaves in the trees red just like they are today. I started shivering so hard my teeth actually began to chatter, and Tucker laughed at me and called me that—his delicate California flower— and wrapped me in his coat.”

“What we have is divine. It's beautiful and good and right. I feel it..." He presses his his hand to his chest, over his heart. "I feel it all the time. You're in here, part of me. You're what I go to bed thinking about and what I wake up to in the morning.”

“I don't have to do this alone.If I had my gratitude journal on me now, that's what I would write.”