A Week of Reckoning and Revelation

What a week it was

. It’s astonishing how life can shift in a single breath. My husband lost a cousin—just 45 years old. We visited a dear family friend now in hospice, a man who’s been a constant in our lives. And during that same visit, I lost someone else—my closest friend, his daughter.

Years ago, that would’ve shattered me. But this time, something felt different. Yes, it hurt—but not in the way it once would have. She’s in a dark place, and while I have compassion for her pain, I no longer have space in my life for that kind of energy. It may sound cold, but it’s self-preservation. I sincerely hope she finds her way back to light… I really do. She’s consumed by her own suffering, unable to see the heartbreak others—her sister, her mother, even her children—are carrying too. Instead of leaning into one another, she’s lashing out, creating division where there should be unity. And now, she’s twisting truths to justify the fallout.

Just like that… she’s no longer part of my world. It’s strange, surreal even, how quickly everything can change.

But I’m learning to not resist it. I don’t ask “why me” anymore—instead I ask, “why now, and what next?” Maybe she’s not meant to walk into the future I’m stepping into. And oddly, I’m okay with that. Actually, I’m excited. I feel change moving in every corner of my life. It’s no longer something I fear—it’s something I welcome.

Even my marriage, which still lives in a place of uncertainty, feels like part of that bigger shift. I had a conversation last week with someone who gave me deep clarity about it. I realized I have to let go of the need to control the outcome. I’ve handed it over to God—or the universe, or whatever force you believe in. I’m riding the wave now. If it’s meant to dissolve, I’ll face that when the time comes. But for now, I trust. And I learn. And I grow.