I don’t think I care.

Oh, yes, absolutely. I have two children, and often I think about them and how when I’m gone, they will be here listening to an old CD of mine, thinking, “At least I can I can hear her voice.” I think this is very charming. It’s very nice. And then, of course, I also think about the other generations of opera singers coming behind me… It’s so important that they can have a real testimony of how it was in our ears. I think that what stands the test of time is really the memory of people hearing us singing somewhere.

As a nice person, I hope.

With smile lines.

Before kids, when I was 13 or so, on the back of my horse, running at full speed in an open pasture. Post kids, happiness happens often, but in more subtle ways. I now prefer the word “content”.

I might speed up a few details, but wouldn’t change anything, other than my dad still being here.

My father’s death before my marriage and motherhood.

The fact that at least 300,000 women die every year from pregnancy and childbirth-related issues that are largely preventable.

To strangers. Living in New York, I see individuals every day who are invisible to so many. I want to say sorry that so many of us think their pain and suffering is not our own.

A midwife named Jennie Joseph. She is a tireless activist for women, family health and equal access to quality maternity care.