August 8th will forever be a special day Steven and I had circled, dreamed of, and worked toward together since 2022. By the grace of God, I did it. I graduated from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, just as we planned. Thanks to our children and their amazing spouses, the day was as special and full of love as Steven had envisioned. I felt his pride and presence surround us.

But after the celebration quieted, reality hit hard. For starters, our long awaited trip to Italy and Greece didn’t happen. Steven’s absence felt bigger. I’ve been trying to find my footing amidst the deep, unrelenting grip of grief which lives in your body. The kind that brings fear, anxiety, a wrecked nervous system, extreme fatigue, and brain fog. Some days, just showing up takes everything I have. I like to use the example of some days it feels like I’m continually climbing a mountain. 

My faith, which was once my anchor, has been shaken. Everything I thought I knew about health and fitness has been challenged by Steven’s death. Everything that once made sense no longer fit this version of me. Yet somewhere within that disorientation, there’s a quiet whisper reminding me to keep going… to keep searching for what’s next. It’s exactly what Steven would want.

As I look back over this year, I see how each post has mirrored a different stage of my journey:

✨ In ✨ Leaving 2024 Feeling Empowered ✨ I reflected on my 2024 “Word of the Year, Empowered,” beginning the year by witnessing the birth of our fourth grandchild, celebrated meaningful milestones like earning my 200-hour yoga teacher training, successfully finishing 45 credits (phew!!!), and laying the groundwork for the next chapter. December 31 was met with much gratitude for the special moments that filled my year.

✨ Then came ✨ Word of the Year 2025: Flow ✨ where I introduced “Flow” as my guiding word. I described the intention to surrender control, to flow instead of fight. I envisioned connecting breath and movement, trust and action, and embracing change with grace.

✨ And by mid-year, in When Life Doesn’t Flow the Way You Planned I admitted that flow doesn’t always look peaceful or planned. On January 27th life turned upside down and then on February 3rd I lost Steven, my husband of 36 years. I shared how that loss shifted my focus from striving to simply showing up, from pushing to being present. I opened up about giving myself grace through grief and redefining active living and mindful moves in the new context of loss. Those reflections led me here to this moment of rebuilding.

So here I am, still in the middle of it all, choosing (or should I say doing my best) to take small, proactive steps toward holistic healing. I’m relearning how to nourish my body, calm my nervous system, and tend to my faith. I believe that as I move, breathe, and rebuild, I’ll find pieces of myself again. 

Grief changes you and I’ll never be the same again. I don’t even know who I am at times. No one can prepare you for the identity shift which is forced upon you with the loss of your beloved spouse. But maybe that’s where grace enters, in the willingness and courage to keep putting one foot in front of another. It’s messy. It’s complicated. It’s hard. And I hate it. This takes the word “powerless” to a whole new level. 

My journey looks different than I expected, but I’m still here learning to flow through it, trusting that God is somehow leading me toward purpose through the pain.

“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” — Isaiah 43:19

Author’s Note 🌙✨

As I write this, the next chapter is still unfolding. While the details of what’s ahead aren’t quite ready to be shared, 2026 already holds two deeply meaningful goals that I’m working toward quietly and intentionally. Both represent healing, discipline, and honoring Steven’s belief in me. For now, I’ll do my best to move forward step by step, prayer by prayer, and trying to trust that purpose will reveal itself through the process.

“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” — Exodus 14:14