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Having attended 10 schools and having lived in 7 States and 13 homes, I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to make many friends over the course of my life. While some are content to have a small circle of close friends, I love having an enormous circle of friends that represent various interests and commonalities.

It has become easier to make friends as I’ve aged but I clearly remember being close minded about finding new friends when I moved from New Jersey to Illinois in 1980. I was so upset about leaving my best friend behind and I was determined to let everyone know just how unfair my life was. One day a new friend lovingly scolded me saying she was tired of hearing about how great my friends in NJ were and reminded me that I had good friends in Illinois as well. It was a good wake up call. Making new friends wasn’t going to diminish the love I had for my New Jersey friends.  And refusing to let new friends in was only serving to make me and those around me miserable.

As I have added more and more friends, the blessings in my life have multiplied. I marvel at the support I received (and continue to receive) since Rick’s passing. I love all the new friends I am making in Georgia while maintaining older friendships from work and school and past neighborhoods. I love that God gave me unlimited room in my heart for more and more friends.  

I didn’t need to make room for more friends. I didn’t want my friendship with “B” to end, but it did. She provided incredible moral support that I desperately needed during my healing journey in Chicago. And I reciprocated with a different kind of support, supporting her business. Today I was abruptly cut off and I spent the day stewing over this failed friendship. I started questioning whether I was taken advantage of and the unfairness of it stirred thoughts of revenge and retaliation, much like my quest 43 years ago to share my misery with the company around me.

Here we go again. Grief, you keep knocking on my door and I can’t lock you out.   

As I re-read the poem, A Reason, Season, or Lifetime, I was  reminded that sometimes friendships end without any wrongdoing on our part.  God put her in my life for a reason, just like Rick was in my life for a season.  I wish that knowing this lessened the pain but it does not. But it does help me focus on gratitude for the fun times we shared and the moral support she provided when I needed it most.  

Like the Girl Scouts suggest, I will continue to make new friends and keep the old.  At least for a season.

Hey Dad,

I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter. I know I am constantly searching for signs you’re around but it’s been a bit overwhelming trying to write to you again. So much has happened since you’ve been gone and I don’t know where to begin. Honestly, most days I can’t really believe I’ve made it this long without you.

Before I begin, I also want to apologize for how much of this letter is about Taylor Swift. I think you’ll understand why, though.

On the anniversary of your accident, I was lucky enough to spend the evening with my best friends seeing Taylor Swift at The Eras Tour. I know if you were here you would roll your eyes at how big of a deal it is to secure tickets to her current tour. I also know you would’ve been so excited I had that experience.

When Elaine got through the Ticketmaster queue and got tickets for 7-7-23, I was ecstatic. But I was also overwhelmingly sad. I knew this show was going to be a once in a lifetime opportunity. I also knew it would fall on the sixth anniversary of your accident and I’d likely be struggling. Thankfully, I have some of the best friends in the world and I knew they would be there the whole day helping me through all my feelings.

Going in, I knew it would be an emotional night but I had no idea how overwhelmed I would feel by your presence when she performed two particular songs.

I had a feeling she would do something special during our show since it was the day her re-released album Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) came out. I hoped she would play Long Live as a surprise song, but instead she included it in the Speak Now era set list. The song took on a whole new meaning to me as I screamed/cried/sang along with the other 70,000 Swifties in attendance. I will forever remember that moment and how I could feel your presence with me as she sang the bridge:

"Will you take a moment? 
Promise me this
That you'll stand by me forever 
But if, God forbid, fate should step in 
And force us into a goodbye 
If you have children someday 
When they point to the pictures 
Please tell them my name"

So obviously I cried through the whole song. Then we got to the acoustic set where she performs a different surprise song each night. She chose “Never Grow Up” from Speak Now (Taylor’s Version). A lyric from that song goes “Memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home; Remember the footsteps, remember the words said.” As you can imagine, I cried my way through that song as well. An image forever ingrained in my mind is you sitting at the kitchen island waiting for me to “surprise” you with a visit home from Ames. I wish I had known that was the last time I’d see you sitting there.

As I’m sure you remember, I’ve had Taylor’s music as a soundtrack to my life since she first started making music. I’ve always loved her music but it wasn’t until I had to navigate life without you, that her music spoke to me in a way it never had before. She has a song for every emotion and feeling I’ve felt over the last 6 years. She has the words when all I have are tears. Hearing these songs live transported me back in time. A time when you were still here and I had no idea the years left with you were numbered. I’ll leave you with one more song lyric that has resonated with me since I first heard it last October:

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time 
And I've got a lot to pine about
I've got a lot to live without

Until next time, I’ll be here missing you daily. I love you, Dad

Love, your pumpkin

Several weeks ago as I was changing after my workout, I noticed one of my diamond earrings had fallen out. I found the back of the earring on my closet floor, so I was hopeful the earring was in the house. After much searching, I wasn’t able to find it and realized it might have fallen off during my walk. Although a hat covered my ears, I did take the hat off near the end of my walk when I got too warm.

I started searching for the earring during my daily walks. With all the wind and rain and pine needles and debris on the sidewalk, I realized I was looking for a needle in a haystack.  

I started thinking about ways I could repurpose the remaining earring and matching pendant.  I had purchased the set in Hawaii with money from the Workman’s Compensation I received after Rick’s fatal accident. I wear the set daily as one way to feel his continued prescence.

Fast forward two weeks. I’m on my walk, listening to a podcast when I looked down and stopped in my tracks. There was my earring laying on the sidewalk; the post bent back and laying with the diamonds facing up, the setting a bit scratched, but intact. I could not believe my luck.  

But was it luck? Now that I have had some time to repair the earring (and purchase locking backs) I have reflected on my good fortune in finding this item of significant sentimental value.

It seems to me that there was some divine intervention involved. Perhaps my guardian angel put in a word to God on my behalf. Or maybe God was answering an unspoken prayer.  Regardless, finding this earring was such a powerful reminder of Rick’s presence and the constant work of the Holy Spirit in my life.   

Speaking of reminders, In my women’s bible study I was encouraged to create a “My Good Life List*. The idea is to help us remember the many good things about God to remind us of his faithfulness. After completing my list I realized how easy it is to take for granted all the little miracles in my life. So much so that it took finding an earring to remind me that God is with me ALWAYS.  

God’s love isn’t just on a leaf covered sidewalk. His love and protection are everywhere.    

*Credit: www.jenniferrothschild.com/amos

Last night I was listening to the podcast “Dear Therapist”, and Lori Gottlieb reminded her listeners that grief is not linear. I’ve heard this many times; however, last night it really resonated with me.

Five and a half years into my grief journey, the hard days are certainly fewer. While I think about Rick on a daily basis, these thoughts are mostly happy memories. Like how we partnered to host a large Thanksgiving gathering each year and how he supported me in my career. And how he was so involved in parenting our children, driving miles to comfort Annika when she was struggling at college and attending every single one of Erik’s football games.

But grief can hit you hard when you least expect it. That unexpected moment was last week as Joe and Annika and Nic and I were watching Monday night football. Along with thousands of others, we witnessed Damar Hamlin collapse from cardiac arrest. Thankfully, Damar received immediate medical care and did not lose precious minutes before being revived and after several days in the hospital he is well on the road to recovery.

It’s been over a year since I experienced a trigger like this.  

Immediately I was reminded how Rick was revived 3 times. I was reminded that precious minutes went by before medical personnel arrived on the scene. I was reminded that he had to be intubated to allow his brain to recover from the trauma. These reminders were followed  by a big “What if”.  What if Rick has been revived within a minute of his cardiac arrest?  I suppose it’s not healthy to entertain what if scenarios but I also know that a trigger sets you into a tailspin and logic and self-care take a back seat to everything else. One thing I have learned for sure;  Grief can wreak havoc on one’s mental and physical well being.  

Earlier this week, a friend connected me with a young woman, recently widowed after her husband was electrocuted on the job. My friend, rightfully so, thought I might be able to offer some support and a listening ear to her friend. As she and I spoke I was once again reminded of my early days of grief. I recalled a dream I had where I discovered that Rick’s accident was all a misunderstanding – he was really alive and in hiding while the two of us figured out how to reconcile the life insurance and let others know he was really alive. I recalled the yearning I had for Rick to speak to me as he had done with a friend who is a medium. I recalled the anger I felt over him leaving his family behind.

While the triggers from Damar Hamlin’s incident  made me sad, the triggers from my conversation with this young widow had a different impact. I certainly felt empathy in both situations but after the latter trigger, I had a much different reaction. As I listened to my new friend share her grief I recognized the emotions that I too had faced. Emotions from a very painful and difficult time – a time filled with despair and hopelessness.  

I had not forgotten the pain, yet I was struck by the sharp contrast to the hope I feel today. Time has allowed me to process changes in my life and to find joy without Rick by my side. With time I have learned that I can still love him and miss him all while forming new relationships and enjoying new experiences. I’ve come a long way in my grief journey. And for that I am grateful.

I’ve always loved fresh peaches and now that I live in the Peach State I imagine I will have many opportunities to enjoy peach ice cream, peach cobbler and peach salsa.  Maybe I’ll even discover a great peach cocktail.

Another favorite food of mine is pecans. I love to add pecans to salad and at Christmas I make a sugar cookie with a pecan pie filling.  

Being a dessert fan, I imagine choosing between peach pie and pecan pie on a restaurant menu would be a tough choice.

As the five year anniversary of Rick’s passing approached, I had been contemplating a way to mark this year’s anniversary. I wanted this anniversary to be remembered in a unique way given the many changes in my life. A new home and a new love has given me a renewed focus on my future. I don’t want that focus and the physical distance from Illinois to distract me from the special memories I made with Rick.  

Of course my memories of our life together will never fade, but I mourn the fact that he is not here to enjoy the retirement paradise he helped me work for. 

I decided to plant a tree. My “sister in love,” Ellen, suggested I plant it somewhere strategic —somewhere where I can easily see it and be reminded of Rick.

So today I bought a peach tree. I will plant it with the remainder of Rick’s ashes. I have the perfect spot in the backyard. I will see the tree when I wake up and I will enjoy its beauty when I have my coffee on the porch. When the tree bears fruit, I can make a yummy cocktail and toast my forever love.

I couldn’t resist buying a second tree. Next to the peach tree will be my new pecan tree. This tree represents the next phase of my life —retirement and a new life in Georgia with a new love. Joe is patient with me, giving me space to grieve the loss of Rick. He is also a little “nutty” and knows how to make me laugh like no other. How lucky I am to be able to love and be loved again.

Peaches or pecans?  I’m glad I don’t have to choose. I love them both.

Today I looked through my posts dating back to November 2017, thinking I might organize them into a story of my grief journey. In doing so, I realized I only had 2 entries over the 15 months since I retired. I could claim that I am too busy to write, but we all know that this is not possible when my favorite thing to do is nothing!

I’ve always loved to write, but I’m especially drawn in when I’m struggling with depression. Writing has been my greatest therapy in processing my extreme feelings of grief. It’s not that I’m over my grief. I will always miss Rick and the life we shared together. But time has brought me some peace and some hope and happiness.

A good friend noticed my happiness and she asked me when I had last been so happy. It didn’t take me long to think back to a weekend in December 2016 when I enjoyed an amazing weekend with Rick and my besties in San Francisco and Napa Valley. So it was over 5 years ago. Not so long ago, yet so much has happened in those 5 years.

In particular, a lot has happened in the 15 months since I retired. 

I’ve embraced the retirement life: sleeping as much as I want, traveling as much as I can, expanding my hobbies, and slowly working on my fitness and nutrition goals.

I received some closure on Rick’s accident when we mediated a resolution with the Workman’s Compensation Insurance company as well as the parties to the wrongful death lawsuit. The resolution didn’t bring me joy per se, but it brought relief and an end to a long wait. It didn’t bring justice, but it removed the threat of Rick’s competence being questioned in a courtroom. It also allowed the kids and I to have some additional financial security.

I started an LLC partnership in Rick’s honor. It’s called Real TYM and my investment allows my son to have an early start in home ownership and gives both of us an opportunity to be landlords and AirBNB hosts.  

I bought my forever home. The place I will spend the next 30-40 years, enjoying the fruits of my labor and making TYM for the most important people in my life.

And I met a guy – “the one”. Joe is devoted to his family and has a strong faith in God. We have similar interests in writing, Scrabble, football, and boating. I smile when I think of him and together we share lots of laughter. He has great respect for Rick and knows that he will never replace him in my life or the kids’. Early in our relationship I asked him to write about his ideal day. I had written about mine 2 years earlier. When we compared our writings, I knew he was part of God’s plan for me. I absolutely adore him.

This sounds like a fairy tale ending – my happily ever after. But I’d like to think of it as a new beginning. 

That is the question I keep getting after posting a picture of my future home in Georgia.  

After talking of my plans to purchase a lake home in Iowa for 2 years, it makes sense that my decision caused mass confusion.

So, what happened?  

After a couple of my offers were not accepted and another fell through prior to closing, I pressed pause and decided to stay in Chicago a little longer and enjoy my beautiful condo and boating on Lake Michigan. I even invested in a rental property with my son where I planned to live once my condo sold. After receiving two low offers on my condo, I took it off the public market and listed it privately, determined to wait for an offer that was reasonable.

And then to my surprise, when I least expected it, my condo sold. By this time I knew that my investment purchase was not contingent on the funds from my condo which meant I could now focus on finding my lake home!

While embracing my time in Chicago, I continued to watch the real estate offerings in Iowa and found that prices were escalating and like elsewhere, bidding wars ensued anytime something great hit the market.

Then it occurred to me. If I am going to have 2 homes, including the one in chilly Chicago, the other should be in a warmer climate. I zeroed in on eastern Tennessee, western North Carolina, northwest South Carolina, and northern Georgia. Next, I looked for communities near a major airport and near a  lake where my boat club operates.  

My dilemma in getting started was deciding where to look first. I decided to start in Georgia as I was intrigued by Lake Lanier and my boyfriend’s brother-in-law is an established realtor in that area. And, as I found properties I liked in neighboring States, he referred me to realtors in his network to assist.

Like everywhere, lake properties are going under contract as quickly as they hit the market.  The first few that caught my eye had multiple offers before I had even worked on financing approval.

So once again I pressed pause.  No easy task for this impatient woman. Spending a couple of weeks in Hawaii helped. Then I worked on pre-approval and scheduled a vacation to Atlanta. I even looked into subleasing an apartment.

Then, just like the sale of my condo, when I was least expecting it, I found my forever home. During my press pause phase, I had favorited a property in Cumming GA to give my realtor an idea of the amenities I wanted. On the same day I applied for an apartment lease, I got a notification that this “favorite” property was reduced in price. After touring it via facetime, I booked a flight to Atlanta to see it in person.  

It was love at first sight. A contemporary new-build with plenty of space to entertain. A large garage and bonus space perfect for my feeding ministry, AirBNB and craft studio dreams, a dream kitchen, and a place for future grandchildren, puppies, and a pool.  This is where you will find me, vacationing at home during my retirement years.

Since I was competing with multiple offers, I did not have the time I wanted to explore the area to make sure it would fit the kind of social life I desire. But never fear. I will be connecting with former colleagues, high school classmates, sorority sisters, and a friend of my bestie who is also moving to the Atlanta area. I will be closer to my parents and sister and my boyfriend Joe has six siblings nearby including his sister who has already declared us to be retired besties. And I imagine many new friends when I find a new church home.

Looking back at the vision board I created a couple of years ago, I see my new life in this home in the images. Although it’s not Iowa, I will be taking many direct flights from Atlanta to Des Moines on Delta. But when I’m home, I look forward to frequent visits from family and friends.

Is it Iowa?  No, it just might be Heaven.

My pinterest tagline says, “Too many interests and too little time.”

On the dating sites, there aren’t enough characters allowed to describe my interests.

So, after nearly one year of retirement, I would have imagined that I would have finished some t-shirt quilts or scrapbook pages or written chapter one of my first novel. At the very least, I should have made progress on the launch of MakeTym or found success in getting fit and trim.   

It’s not that I’ve lost interest in those projects; I just found a new favorite:  Nothing.

To clarify, for me, doing nothing includes sleeping in, binging shows on Netflix, wearing my PJs all day or playing games on my phone. Basically, anything that allows me to procrastinate.

To clarify further, I don’t indulge in doing “Nothing” on a frequent basis. But when I do, I am learning to embrace it and not feel guilty about my lack of productivity.

And doing nothing is not a complete waste of time. The extra sleep I am getting includes more vivid dreams, including dreams where I get a visit from Rick. And time spent watching TV isn’t totally wasted as I’ve been knitting tons of cool stuff.

Retirement is a far cry from the busy days of balancing work and family. I can recall during my college days that I was most productive during the semesters when I had both a heavy load of classes and volunteer commitments. When time is limited, my organizational and time management skills kick in and I tend to accomplish a great deal. So it makes sense that having more time at my disposal, I am not as productive as I once was.  

As I shared my guilt of doing nothing with a friend, he said, “You deserve it.” I suppose I do.  

Now that I am retired, I have been struggling to decide where to buy my forever home.  

My dream is to be on a lake, within an hour of a major airport, and close to family. I’ve spent the last year looking on Lake Panorama near Annika with no luck.  

This has led me to consider other places. Minnesota has 10,000 lakes. I understand there are beautiful lakes in Tennessee. I could find a waterfront property in Florida.   

As I was contemplating my choices, one of my besties reminded me: “The world is your oyster.”  It is indeed. I am blessed to have the resources to live wherever I want and to spend my days writing and crafting and my winters vacationing. And my non-profit work will provide meaningful focus for the hours I used to spend hard at work.  

I know it is a silly problem to have but, nonetheless, it consumes my mind day and night. Every place I consider is missing something.  

The thing is I already live on a lake, with family, and near two airports. The only thing missing is Rick. Yes, the world is my oyster.  I’d like an oyster with room for two. 

We have all seen the toddler learning to exert their independence and declaring, “I do it myself!”  I remember being so sad when, at age 4, Annika decided she was old enough to pick out her own outfits. Thankfully, she has great style so it was easier for me to let go.

My toddler days are long gone but I am often still stuck in that mentality.  Despite the sense of accomplishment I feel in doing something on my own, my motivation is driven more by my reluctance to ask someone to invest their time, talent, or resources in me.  I suppose I don’t feel worthy.

I do love it when someone helps me.  My love language is acts of service. Two of the most memorable gifts I ever received were acts of service.  When Annika was born, my friend Susie showed up with dinner when she came over to meet my new bundle of joy.  Years later, she came over and cleaned my home for me when I was preparing for out of town guests for Rick’s funeral.  Over the years, Susie and I have exchanged a number of gifts.  She is very generous but these two non-monetary gifts are the ones that resonate most with me.

The other night at my women’s Bible study, I was sharing my feelings of being overwhelmed with the weight of my sins and my lack of discipline to do better.  One of the women suggested that I ask God to help me with this struggle. It seems so simple, but it was quite an aha moment for me. I’ve had many aha moments with this group of women who are all young enough to be my daughters.  

At work I also struggled with asking for help. Even though I was the Director with several direct reports and a large team, delegating was always a challenge for me. I certainly had the authority – the obligation really – but assigning work often made me uncomfortable and certainly impacted my effectiveness.

Knowing how much I value and enjoy helping others is  a good reminder.  I love it when someone has asked me to mentor them, or provide advice, or to show them how to do something. When I’m hesitant to ask for a favor or ask for help, I think about this joy and it provides the incentive I need to reach out.  

By doing so, I’ve mastered some challenging knitting projects, I’ve discovered some great books to help me in my faith journey, received expert advice when I was contemplating the purchase of a business, and I navigated a legal issue to a positive outcome.  I’ve even sought out editorial help with my writing!  

Yet, it still takes practice.  Asking God for his help every day is the perfect first step.  Because life is too hard to do by myself.