The Best Parts of Me
Westbury has one of those classic Tasmanian Catholic churches — blue stone, solid, humble — built from the same bones as the Church of Apostles in Launceston. It’s where the head priest of Launceston is moving at the end of the month. And it’s where my great‑great‑great grandfather — a hard‑drinking SP bookie, butcher, and early promoter of American “moving pictures” — lived such a full life that they named a street after him: Lovatt Lane.
It’s also where I went to my first AA meeting.
Not in the Catholic church, but down the road in a modest little Anglican church — yes, I crossed the line into the traditional Christian nemesis territory. But AA is neutral ground. Grace doesn’t care about denominational borders.
I hadn’t been to a meeting in a while. It was the first day of the year, and I wanted to hand out a few copies of my first book — editing errors and all — to some fellow travellers.
Before I left, I found myself thinking about Evie.
About what she inherited from me.
About whether she’ll resent the traits I wish I could have edited out of my own soul. She’s more like me than like Alison — and while she’s inherited my strengths, I pray her spiritual DNA is lighter on the weaknesses.
After the meeting, driving home through Westbury’s quiet streets, the last song in my playlist ended. Spotify served up something I’d never heard before — “Best Parts of Me” by Will Dempsey.
And it was as if God had been listening to the exact question I’d been wrestling with.
The song is a father speaking to his daughter — telling her that the best parts of him live in her, that she carries his heart, his hope, his goodness. He admits his mistakes, but recognises that somehow, in her, the best of him survived. He promises she’ll never face life alone, and that even when he’s gone, she’ll know where to find him.
This is the song: Best Parts of Me by Will Demsey:
I can still remember the first time I saw
Those brown eyes staring into mine
It was in that moment I felt a love
I never knew I would findIt's like God took my heart right out of my chest
And wrapped it all up in a little pink dress
And painted the most beautiful smile in the world
And topped it all of it with brown hair and curls
The day He made my baby girl'Cause the best parts of me were given to you
And I hope that all of your dreams come true
And as time goes by, I want you to know
That I'll be with you wherever you go
You'll always be my baby girlShe's as sweet as a syrup she dripped on her dress
Won't leave the house if her hair is a mess
You should see her dancing when she thinks she's alone
Or the snap she sends me from her mama's phone
And I've made so many mistakes in my life
At least I did one thing right, my baby girl'Cause the best parts of me were given to you
And I hope that all your dreams come true
And as time goes by, I want you to know
That I'll that I'll be with you wherever you go
You'll always be my baby girlThere'll be some hard times you'll face in this life
Just say the word and I'm by your side
And all those Band-Aids and heartbreaks and days that go wrong
You'll never face them alone'Cause those best parts of me will never leave you
Wherever you go, whatever you'll do
And if there comes a time when I'm not around
You know where I'll be found, my baby girl
My baby girl, my baby girl, oh
By the time the song finished, I had tears in my eyes.
Not sadness.
Recognition.
I’d spent the afternoon worrying about what Evie might have inherited from me.
And then this song arrived — uninvited, unplanned, perfectly timed — reminding me that she carries the best parts too. The parts worth passing on. The parts worth protecting.
And if you like it, download it on Spotify so Will Dempsey gets the credit he deserves. The song is poetry in motion — and for me, it was a divine reply to a question I’d asked four hours earlier.
Prayers are answered.
About Jason Bresnehan
Jason is a writer and recovery advocate whose work explores the intersection of Catholic faith and the lived experience of addiction. His books and essays weave scripture with the rhythms of everyday life, showing how grace can surface in the most ordinary encounters.
Through A Catholic Gospel Journey – Through the Lens of Alcohol Recovery and related projects, Jason offers reflections that connect the Sunday readings to the struggles and victories of recovery. His approach is rooted in clarity, rhythm, and respect for tradition, while remaining accessible to those navigating the challenges of addiction and renewal.
Founder of the Hadspen Foundation, Jason is committed to building frameworks for spiritual recovery that are both repeatable and personal. His writing is guided by discernment, narrative cadence, and the belief that doctrine should support—not overshadow—the human story.