Nothing is ever the same

“Everything we know is going to change.”

I will never forget my husband’s words. Although I can’t remember exactly what prompted them, I remember where we were standing. And I remember that he was focused and serious.

It was 2016, and a month or two after colon cancer had taken his 39-year-old twin sister. My one and only twin-law. We were in the kitchen, and it was a short conversation. But his words still ring in my ears, nearly three years later.

Everything is going to change.

The intensity of his eyes and voice were unmistakable; I took note. And I fought the urge to understand exactly what everything is going to change might mean to my nicely engineered life of job and husband teaching and kids growing and summer trips to the lake. Somehow, I resisted the temptation to figure out this passing prophecy. And somehow, I wasn’t afraid.

Today, I can’t help but look back at three years navigating. We have steered through grief, joy, loss, gain, fear, faith — change — and I realize now that I never could have understood the details of those kitchen words in 2016. But, indeed. Everything has changed.

We are growing. The kids are bigger. Our courage is, too.

We are letting go. Of the trap notion that our value comes from what we do — how much — and how quickly.

We are healing. With therapy, self care, and more grace than I can possibly explain.

And while we still live in the same house in the same town — with the same carpet and kitchen appliances that I pray will change soon — nothing is the same.

Emily taught me a lot, both before and after she died. She taught me to get excited about little things. To laugh too loud. To mildly annoy others with how many pictures you take. To trust God with everything. To live a life of loving others.

And whether I learned this from her, or from her passing, Emily also taught me to find happiness. Not to settle. To allow for change. To pursue what’s best for my family, without feeling compelled to explain.

She taught me to accept that everything can — and sometimes should — change. And most importantly, she taught me that the pursuit of uncommon wellness is always worth it.

In this spirit, I hope you’ll keep your eyes open for a new focus on my website. I’m going to start sharing more about the life I’m leading, especially my passion for authenticity, vulnerability, courage, and, of course, health and happiness. I’ll invite you to help me explore how kindness and compassion transform our lives. Together, we’ll navigate a path to live our best life and help others do the same.

We’ll weave it all together with laughter and love — and all the space needed to create uncommon wellness in this crazy and wonderful life.

Everything is going to change. And it’s going to be good.