A tender morning letter about grief, legacy, and the quiet ways we learn to say goodbye. As I navigate life without my Aunt Billie, I’m remembering her strength, her unconditional love, and the promise she taught me to keep… to live my life, my way.
Category Archives: grief and healing
A Final Tribute to Aunt Billie
This morning, I stepped into one of those moments that divides life into before and after. My Aunt Billie — Mimi — lived 101 bold, beautiful years, and today, I honor her legacy.
Letter Three — For the Daughter Missing Her Mother
There is no wrong way to miss your mother. Whether she passed or the relationship was lost in another way, your grief is real, your love is real, and she lives on in the way you love. This letter is for the daughter who still reaches for her mother in the quiet.
When Mother’s Day Feels Tender
A tender reflection for mothers who carry quiet grief, and a gentle reminder to hold space for the women whose hearts feel especially tender as Mother’s Day approaches.
The Beauty of Showing Up for Each Other
A quiet Wednesday evening turned into something meaningful — a reminder of how much it matters to simply show up for one another. From sitting with a friend on a hard day to feeling the love from your responses to last night’s post, my heart is full in the gentlest way.
The Goodbye I Didn’t Get — and the Love That Never Left
For years I carried the weight of a goodbye I never got, but today I’m learning that love doesn’t live in the final moment — it lives in every moment before it, in the healing we shared, and in the ways, he still finds me in the quiet.