Friday Five: July 18, 2025

There's something about Friday morning that always feels full of possibility, even when life seems heavy. Here are five things on my heart as we head into the weekend.

1. Our suitcases are half-packed and sitting by the front door, ready for a trip to Tomahawk, Wisconsin this weekend for my husband's family reunion. I have come to appreciate these kinds of gatherings in a new way ever since my mom got sick. The way three generations squeeze around picnic tables, sharing stories and creating new memories is so sweet. I've been looking forward to the chance to escape into the simplicity of small-town summer days and no cell phone service.

2. The past few weeks have been about learning to navigate regular life again after losing my mom. I was spending all of my free time at her bedside until she passed away on June 18. Some days feel surprisingly normal, and others catch me off guard with waves of grief. I'm reminded that healing isn't linear, it's more like learning to dance with a new rhythm. I'm trying to balance my need to move forward and my need to sit with the sadness when it comes.

   
   

3. July has been teaching me about finding joy in the smallest moments. Watching fireflies in the field on the farm, the sound of evening thunderstorms, the luxury of relaxing by the pool or on the deck with nowhere else to be. I've been taking time to notice and appreciate these pockets of peace more intentionally, like tiny gifts scattered throughout ordinary days.

   
   

4. This week, I started painting in my free time again after months of creative hibernation. It's nice to have something to do with my hands that isn't scrolling through my phone or sitting with my thoughts. My dining room table has become a bit of a disaster zone with paint and water cups everywhere, but it's the kind of mess that feels productive. There's something about creating that feels necessary right now, even if what I'm making isn't particularly impressive.

   
   

5. I've been thinking about the thank-you notes I've been writing the past few weeks to friends and extended family who showed up during mom's final days, sent flowers, or simply sat with us in the hard moments. It's old fashioned, but there's something beautiful about putting gratitude into handwritten words. It's such a sweet gesture that reminds me so much of my mom and the thank-you notes she would insist we send after we received a gift or won an award. I can still hear her voice saying "It's the polite thing to do." I rolled my eyes at the time, but now I understand the importance of acknowledging kindness and making sure people know their thoughtfulness mattered. These simple thank-you notes feel important, like a way to honor both the kindness I received and the values she taught me.

Life feels fragile and beautiful right now, like holding something precious in cupped hands. This weekend, I'm choosing to lean into both the joy of family celebration and the bittersweet awareness of how fleeting these moments are. Here's to gathering the people we love close and treasuring every shared moment.