Dear Daddy,
My earliest memory of you was getting a goodbye kiss in the morning before you would go off to work. I would have my head on the pillow and you leaned down, gave me a kiss on the cheek and say I will see you tonight. I was the oldest of 3 girls so I had some special alone time with you. For example, when I was about 8 years old you took me to work with you. It was very exciting to spend a whole day with you and have you all to myself.
I have so many beautiful memories because I was blessed to have you for 66 years. Not many people live to that age and can say they still have their Dad. Well I am older now and I have lost you and it now there is a void in my life.You were always my sweet daddy. The man I looked to with love and admiration. I am so glad I was always able to express to you these feelings. You are the reason I am, what I consider, a good person.
Well life goes on. My children are older and are very good people. They are both hard workers and have good hearts. I have a grandson now. Thank you for giving me so many opportunities in life. You worked hard for your family and your sacrifices are appreciated every day. I was given a great blessing to have you as my father. My loving daddy Calvin David Kalstein, my WW2 navy hero.
Love, Your forever adoring daughter,

Dear Grandpa,

It’s been nearly 25 years since I last saw you, and what I remember most about you is how you made me feel. Whether at dinner on the holidays, playing cards, or sitting in your living room telling stories, you lived with a joy and zest for life that was so effortless, natural, and contagious.

Growing up, you were very athletic, just like me. So when I would tell you about the plays I made or the goals I scored, you’d say, “That’s my little athlete,” knowing I got my athletic prowess from you. I was very outgoing as a child, telling a stranger my whole life story within the first five minutes of meeting them. Since you were not short of personality at any point in your life, you’d always say, with a grin, “We know where that one came from.”

When I was around you, I always felt like you loved and believed in me and were proud that I was your granddaughter. Grandpa, you always made me happy, and you always made me smile.

For many years, you had health problems: diabetes, cancer, and heart problems. During the fall of my first year of high school, you had what felt like your 10th heart attack and passed away the Friday after Thanksgiving. I was devastated. Your death was the first time I lost someone close to me. But I pressed on.

For years, you told me the rain was good luck. So, to cope, I looked for rain to stay connected to you – a way to know you were still there. Sure enough, it rained on the day I graduated from high school. On August 15th, 2012, which would have been your 85th birthday, I was offered my first full-time on-air sports anchor/reporter job. It was pouring outside. And more recently, when I met my boyfriend, who treats me so well and makes me laugh, I asked what his name meant. When he said he didn’t know, I looked it up. His name means the God of Rain.

With all my heart, Grandpa, I believe you are watching over me. You know I became a sportscaster, and you love that I started a business that advocates for kindness, courage, and equality. You are so overjoyed about the quality of my new boyfriend’s character, and you think it’s funny how my dog doesn’t let anyone within three feet of me. In fact, I think you may have something to do with that.

So more than telling you that I miss you or even that I love you, what I want you to know is how you made me feel when I was a little girl is how you make me feel now.

Thank you for still making me smile. Thank you for still making me happy.

Love your little athlete,

Dear Mom, Here is what makes our relationship special.

I am not the only person in the world who thinks they have the world’s greatest mom. But I am the only one who is right. There are so many reasons why you are a great mom. Growing up, you showed up at every dance recital, soccer game, graduation, and field trip. You did my hair as a little girl, even though you had to chase me around the house with a brush and a bow in hand for 20 minutes to do so. You took me to The Plaza for tea time and to restaurants in the city for lunch dates. And you have supported every dream I have ever had. While I cherish all those moments and memories, what really makes you the best mom is that you have never let me cry alone.

In my worst moments, Mom, you have always been there to listen to, encourage, and give me advice. As a little girl, when I was upset about school or a boy and couldn’t sleep, you would sit in my bed and talk to me until I felt better. To this day, when I am sad or stressed or just need a friend, you are my first phone call. From my first breakup to my assault to the passing of my ex-boyfriend, you have held my hand, wiped my tears and. And somehow, you always make me feel better.

Your warmth, consistency, and wisdom make you a cut above the rest. And as a result, I move through life feeling very loved. You make hard times more bearable and good times more meaningful.

I am so lucky to have you, the best mom in the world.

I love you with all my heart,

Your daughter,

Hollie,
I know I’ve said this one before, but it is Mother’s Day weekend. So, I figured I’ll say it again.
Sunday marks Mother’s Day. Without mothers, none of us would even be here. Most of us only have one mom. If we’re lucky, we come across women who become a person’s second mom.
You’re my second mom. We’ve rooted each other on and prayed for one another when we needed it.
Thank you for always being in my corner.

When I moved here, I didn’t know myself. I certainly didn’t love myself. I don’t like to think that it took losing you for those things to happen, but I know that for a long, long time, you were my only trans friend— or you and your husband were, until you both died, the same night, in one another’s arms, nine years ago. I know that when you died my own trans baby was only five and still becoming an idea of a person. I wasn’t ready to face my grief over you or any grief over the trauma of my past. I felt like motherhood was the only way I could survive being trans and alone in the world. And then, their little hand tendrilled into mine like a vine and they came out when they were seven. When I fought for resources for them, I found a way to get a little of what I needed, too. Mateo, my friend, my confidante, my comrade, my dreamer, my laughter, my spark, I feel like you would understand these dark times we are facing right now and how much I miss you. You gave me permission to find warmth in the sunshine, roots in the earth, solace in the water, and breath in the air. I took this winter to grieve you and your husband, and so many other people and moments I have lost. I am planning now on how to take the rest of my life to thrive. I feel at peace in this way, this moment before the bloom. I feel so much gratitude for how your life gave me life, always. You did not fight for any of us in vain. I still wear gold shoes and black eyeliner, for you. Always love, always the trans flag and the chin up. We do not have the luxury of shame. I believe in us.