Time Well Spent...

Today wasn’t anything flashy. I didn’t build a new coop or film a sass video or even get my own laundry done.

But I did drive to my parents’ house.

I meant to go just to change bed sheets, clean out the fridge, do dishes, laundry, wipe down the bathroom—all the “useful” things. But lately I’ve been thinking about the regrets I carry from the end of Scott’s life, and trying—really trying—not to repeat them with anyone I love.

So instead of diving straight into chores, I sat.

I sat with my dad for 44 minutes just talking.

Then I went and sat with my mom for a little while.

Then I worked, got all the things done.

But when the work was finished, I didn’t rush off.

I sat again. My dad watched the news while I read the newspaper beside him.

And when he suggested we drive separate to dinner so I could leave after?

I said no..I’ll ride with you. I’ll come back after.

That twenty-minute drive to the restaurant was spent talking about Mom. Then hospice. Then Scott.

It wasn’t heavy, really. Just real. Just honest.

Then we had dinner.

And on the way back, we had to stop for Krispy Kremes because the hot donut light was on. (Of course.)

On the return drive, I asked about one of the jobs he had when I was very small..one I don’t know much about.

We got back. I folded the last load of laundry.

Gave them both hugs and kisses.

And drove home.

And I keep thinking:

If the worst happened, I’d be at peace with today’s time.

When i got home, I could see Zachary  was struggling with the loss of his Daddy, his compass and mentor.  So I took the time to just sit and listen.  No advice, but some truth that I know his Dad would want him to hear.

Then I video "hung" with my cousin while we worked on projects and chit-chatted and kept one another company.

There’s no undoing what I wish I’d done with Scott.

But I can do better now.

I can choose presence.

And today, I did

The Line in the Sand

Two years ago this month, I shared a four-part series about losing 75 pounds.

I was proud. I had routine. 

I had Scott.

Last July..almost to the day

everything shattered.

Grief didn’t just take my husband.

It took my habits. My health. My reason to care.

Lately, the mirror has been hard. But the lab results were harder.

So after a string of sobering doctor visits, I had to face it:

I’m not okay.

And I can’t keep going like this.

So I’m starting again..not with a grand plan, not to “bounce back,” and definitely not to inspire anyone.

Just to survive.

Just to not disappear.

I’m choosing one small, stubborn thing:

Drink the water.

Take the meds.

Say the truth out loud.

Show up again tomorrow.

That’s it.

No glow-up. No performance.

Just a line in the sand.

If you’re here, reading this, still trying..

pull up a chair. I’ll scoot over.

Two Julys. Same swing.

Left: 2022 — down 75 pounds, full of grit and goals.

Right: 2024 — grief-worn, glucose-wary, holding tight to what’s left.

I wish I could bottle her hope.

But I’m proud of today’s fight.

Even if all it looks like… is just showing up.