I’m taking an evening stroll today — at least according to my time zone.
It’s been windy most of the day, finally starting to die down now. Another hour or so and it should settle. Outside, the air feels like I’ve stuck my head in the freezer. It is cold.
These past couple of weeks have been full. I had a wonderful visit from one of my closest friends, Julie. She came out to spend time with her daughters, but I was lucky enough to steal a little of that time too. It felt like a big, warm hug.
A few times, she just sat in our living room, coffee in hand, and we talked for hours — about our children, her grandchildren, and everything else under the sun. I wish she lived closer. Seeing her only three times a year isn’t nearly enough, but I’ll take what I can get.
One of the days she was here, we took a scenic railway ride. The drive there, the train ride, and the drive back filled the entire day. The train ride will forever be a dear memory for Julie, Steve, and me — a dear, dear, dear memory (I write this while shaking my head). We even had dinner with my son, who’s in training nearby. It was a good day — not because of the destination, but because of the company.
We also had breakfast with our friend Ellen, who lives nearby. Ellen and I try to meet weekly, though we missed this past week. She and Julie go way back — their shared memories are part of the fun when we’re together. I get a dose of their history, a dose of our present, and plenty of laughter in between. I always attempt a selfie of the three of us, though I’m terrible at it. My niece Lane is the professional — long arms, perfect angles. Maybe that’s the secret.
Ri, Ellen and Julie.
Burying the Lede
A few days later, I had to go back for a follow-up on my mammogram. Just that phrase — follow-up mammogram — is enough to spike your heart rate. They assured me I’d get the results right away, and I did, after both the mammogram and an ultrasound.
They saw something “very tiny,” but they’re not worried. They just want me back in six months to make sure it hasn’t changed.
I’m mostly OK with that. It’s only been a couple of days, so I’m still processing — floating between calm and mild panic. I don’t want to spend six months in anxiety, so I’m choosing, as best I can, to be OK with it. My doctor was calm and confident, and I have to trust that. She’s likely seen thousands of these.
Talk about burying the lede — a journalism term for when the most important part of the story gets hidden somewhere in the middle. Intentional, in this case. This is my big sigh.
So I’ll leave you this week with this thought:
Stay positive. Stay optimistic about what life brings. We don’t always know where everything will lead, but we can meet it with faith, humor, and a deep breath. Sometimes that’s all we can do — and that’s enough.
💎 Five Gems for the Week
Friendship is medicine. A long conversation and shared coffee can heal more than we realize.
Some memories need no filter. The blurry selfies and inside jokes become the best souvenirs.
Uncertainty doesn’t mean disaster. It just means life reminding us to practice trust.
It’s OK to wobble. You can hold both calm and fear at once — that’s what being human looks like.
The big sigh matters. Sometimes release is the story, not the resolution.
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