At the end of October, I found myself interviewing two courageous women from Afghanistan and Haiti during a special gathering alongside the United Nations Security Council Open Debate on Women, Peace and Security in New York City.

My father was a complicated man, and yet I learned so much from him. I learned how to tell a story, make people laugh, the importance of education, how to appreciate silence, radio shows and marvel at thunderstorms.

I still cling to things my dad taught me through his stories although some of the greatest lessons came from the most painful parts of our journey together.

Once I started taking photos of hearts, they showed up everywhere. It delighted me every time I saw them, and I kept stopping to take more.

There in front of me were little moments during all the trips we’d taken, evidence of the beautiful life we’ve built amidst sorrow and heartbreak.

By the time my last day arrived, I was exhausted, and no amount of caffeine could help. This wasn’t the first time.

Last Wednesday, I left an organization I had been a part of for fifteen of the last twenty years.