Turning the Page

 2025 was a year of letting go—more than I ever expected.

We grieved the loss of my brother-in-law, a loss that changed our family in ways words still can’t fully explain. Grief has a way of settling in quietly, showing up when you least expect it, and teaching you how to carry both sorrow and love at the same time.

We also grieved a season of life coming to an end. Watching Colby graduate high school and college, then step into his first “big boy” job, was a proud moment, but also a tender one. Letting go of the version of life where we were needed in the same ways wasn’t easy. It meant loosening the reins, trusting the foundation we helped build, and allowing him the space to grow, stumble, and find his own footing.

This year also asked me to release some personal baggage I’d been carrying; things that no longer served me but had taken up space for far too long. Letting go isn’t always loud or dramatic. Sometimes it’s quiet work, done internally, piece by piece.

As we step into 2026, I’m learning that letting go doesn’t mean losing, it means making room. Room for healing. Room for growth. Room for what’s next.

I’m hopeful for the pages still unwritten and grateful for the lessons that brought me here.