Our past is who we are, and death is one of our experiences. I lost my husband a long time ago, but it's always yesterday.

When I was born, the wisdom was that homosexuality was an illness; that it was caused largely by somebody's mother, and a distorted relationship with the mother. And now, as I live my life - married to a husband, with kids - it's an identity.

I would probably confess that I was the greatest disappointment of my mother's life, but my father only admired his son's moxie, drive, hustle, and wherewithal to pursue his dreams no matter how I achieve them.

Mum was very cool. Even though she came from a pretty affluent family, she was cool. She was really good, a very normal person.

I have often been struck by the fact that most parents who are experiencing positive and rewarding relationships with their pre-adolescent children are, nevertheless, waiting apprehensively and bracing themselves for the stormy adolescent period.