There are points in time when you grow older than your parents. Or come up on them at least. I look at my father, who’s shrinking before my eyes, and realize no one will save me. No one can save me.

I’m not fit to be in public.

I came here because it’s pine-dark and the ocean is wild. The kind of quiet-noise you need when there’s too much going on in your head. Like the water and the woods are doing all the feeling, and I can hang out, quiet as a headstone, in a between place. A blank I can bear.

It shouldn’t be so hard to live without messing up other people.

You can’t make anything if you’re lost to yourself. You’ll want to again, it’s who you are. Wren, grieving is hard. Complex. Takes its own time.

I can confirm that I've seen that presentation and it contained that language.

I'm hopeful that what has occurred over the last several weeks will give us all pause and encourage us all to seek a better solution.

We can't continue to treat Yellowstone like an island.

We have informed consumers, and they're choosing to take the mode of transportation that is not only the most enjoyable to them but also the most protective of park resources.

You can't make anything if you're lost to yourself. You'll want to again, it's who you are. Wren, grieving is hard. Complex. Takes its own time.