Alzheimer’s is a painful, drawn-out disease, especially for a child caring for a parent in decline. But in a fraught mother-daughter relationship, the disease’s emotional shifts also create moments of unexpected beauty where once there was only tension.

From Eve Andrews, at Grist: “Modern Christmas as its best self, I think, is a celebration of security and abundance and love, but that all takes place against a pervasive background fear that those things might be impermanent.”

Experiencing heartache? At Longreads, Jacqueline Alnes compiles a reading list of essays that have allowed her to grieve.

“These days, there are two main populations I end up mentoring: CEOs, and kids. At some level, they’re totally different. But at some level, they’re surprisingly similar.” On his personal blog, Stephen Wolfram reflects on his role as a mentor to people of all ages.

In this photo essay, photographer Steve McCurry shares inspiring quotes and stunning images of friendship from around the world, including India, France, and Afghanistan.

Monica Byrne shares a winning poem that her father, Donald E. Byrne Jr., wrote about her mother. It was originally published at Red Clay Review.

“A lot can change in the course of one phone call.” At Commode to Joy, Jamie Muscato writes about her father’s death, her strong bond with her brother Troy, and the call that changed everything seven years ago.

Ashlin Horne on love: “It isn’t an illusion of stability that we can fit inside of cabinets and between four walls. That won’t keep us in the arms of another person. It isn’t just forty years of furniture and picture frames that keep it together.”

From Lactaid Fast Act Chewables to “one year of marriage counseling,” Marika Malaea gives honeymoon funds a more prosaic (and hilarious) spin.

“My mind was spinning. Love with a Chance of Drowning was due to publish in three months time but the love itself was drowning.” Torre DeRoche had to promote her memoir at the same time she and her partner had split. At The Fearful Adventurer, she explains what happens.

“Sean knows me, recognizes these lows after 18 years together, and has mastered worrying from a gentle distance.” When Amanda feels herself sliding, she trusts those closest to her to shepherd her toward the sunshine.