Nine years.

That’s how long it’s been since my dad died.

Nine years of breathing around a space that never refills.

Nine years of being a parent without my favorite example of maternal energy.

Nine years of mothering, leading, starting a business, and still, on some days, needing to remind myself that “different” is just that—different, not broken.

Welcome to an episode that will mess with your pause button.

It’s about love, loss, empathy, and the complicated math of moving forward when someone who powered your entire operating system just isn’t here anymore.

(Spoiler alert: Siri has nothing on my dad’s emotional support iPhone.)

This is the story I didn’t know if I’d ever share with a mic.

I’ve written about this.

I’ve skirted around it in essays, offered tiny slices in speeches, and let it simmer in my private thoughts. But speaking it out loud? That’s a whole other layer of irreverence and vulnerability.

Qualities my dad basically trademarked.

Mentioned in this episode:

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