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Can you believe your 90th birthday was already two years ago? Hard to believe.What’s also hard to believe is that just one day before your 90th, you were completely shocked when your daughter walked you into a surprise party—after blindfolding you and whisking you away. But you were. Totally were. How do we celebrate your Read more
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I have a black thumb. I mean, not literally, but I do kill plants like it’s my job. A while back, I got two peace lilies from my grandma’s funeral. They were gorgeous, and I was committed to keeping them alive. But they had flowers, and I was afraid of the pollen. So, I put Read more
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November 12, 2024 Walking Through My Grief 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 In early September of 2024, Mom had an event to attend for a dear friend. She was hesitant to leave after the events of August, when Nenaw had been in and out of the hospital due to severe episodes with her heart. We all encouraged Mom to Read more
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Some days are harder than others. Some days, my grief catches me off guard. Today, I cried. My mom sent me a picture from a notebook of Nenaw’s. She had written down the lineage of my daughter’s namesake. I had asked her to do it, but that’s not why I cried. I cried because I Read more
Reflections on my type A life
To those who may stumble across this and don’t already know who I am – well, I apologize for the boring read. I’m not really a fun person. Dry, sarcastic, witty, and bossy – I am all of those things. Fun? Not so much.
If you’re still reading, here’s a bit of insight: I’m a 40-year-old mother and wife. I recently discovered that writing down the things that drive me to distraction is incredibly cathartic. It helps me decompress and process intense emotions.
To explain how I got here: my grandma passed away in the fall of 2024. You don’t need to tell me how fortunate I am to have had her for 40 years. I know. In fact, I still have a living grandparent. I’m definitely blessed in that respect.
But about my writing… The evening after my grandma passed away, my mom called me with what she wanted the newspaper to say about my Nenaw’s life and subsequent death. It was good. It was on point. Factual. But it was missing the essence of her—the thing that made her my Nenaw. So, the next morning, after a fitful night’s sleep, I got up, went to work out, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not the grief, but the words. The words that didn’t fully express what she meant to me, to all of us. So I grabbed my phone, opened the Notes app, and just started talking. I said the things that made her unique, that made her loved by so many, that made us laugh and cry.
Once I finished editing it, I sent it to my mom. She called and said, “I want that read at the funeral, but we need a shorter version for the paper. Can you reduce it and take it to the funeral home today?” I said sure. I hadn’t intended to take that on. I hadn’t really thought anyone outside the close family would see or hear those words. But I do know that I felt more peace in the moments after I wrote it than I had in the weeks leading up to Nenaw’s death.
So, through the good and the bad, I want to write about those peaks and valleys to get the energy out—to shake it off, metaphorically speaking.
As one of the least Swiftie Swifties, I’m sticking with my terrible analogies.
I’ve got a blank page, baby… and I’m going to write what I feel.
Mindfulmaven 