Hi, Friends.

Here we are on the very first days of 2025, over a quarter of our way into a century which seems like only just began. It’s hard to believe how quickly the time passes, isn’t it?

This past year, as I mentioned in my last post, did not unfold in the way that I was hoping nor did my quest for justice in Josiah’s case. I am still readjusting my sails toward a new horizon, one that becomes increasingly more unpredictable with all of the insanity that is going on in the world. Despite this and whether any of us like it or not, we are indeed moving forward and the best we can do is band together. I hope we can do that here.

2024 was a year of dashed dreams and transformation, the painful shedding of skin that I didn’t want to let go of. I wish I could say that I am a new woman now, standing upon a mountain of wisdom and anecdotes that I keep in beautiful boxes adorned with pretty little bows, but life is inherently messy.

Early on when Josiah was still missing, I noticed a turn in my grief journey when I began brushing my teeth again. Other small achievements were made: I found that I could scramble an egg, that the fork could turn in the bowl up and down over and over, not quickly but efficiently enough that the whites and yellows became one. Tasks like these which once felt impossible became possible again. The grown-up Liz, the one that was guiding, sometimes coaxing, my shattered inner child out of the darkness celebrated the wins.

I was beginning to become myself again.

I’d love to say that grief, traumatic loss, anything that has to do with being alive on this planet is a steady trajectory, but we all know that I’d be lying if I did. Instead, we often find ourselves back in the murky bottom trying to find our way to the top again and that is where this past year took me. Yes, there were many great things: an epic roadtrip with Brian and our two dogs, Dharma and Smokey; travel with family, living in three different homes–four if you count the nearly two months we lived in our Sprinter van. We came full circle in more ways than one are back in Northern California where Josiah’s life began.

I am beginning this new year, 2025, with similar wins I had just months after Josiah was killed. I am cooking again and not just scrambling eggs, but stirring bubbling pots of jam like the ones that paid our bills when Josiah was still a small child. I even catered a big meal for old musician friends! I started weaving again. My dishes are washed and I’m finding structure even in the mundane.

Recently, I submitted an essay to a memoir competition: the submission itself was a win!

The best part is that I’m starting to dream of a future again. One that integrates who I once was with who I’m still becoming.

School starts in just two weeks. I’ll be back in college at the age of 51 and will turn 52 before the semester ends. I’m both excited and a little scared about how I’ll do. Whether my perimenopausal-PTSD-grief brain will perform in the way it once did remains to be seen.

I am, nonetheless, committed to waking up each day and putting my feet on the floor. For me, that is what success and healing look like: just remaining open to what the future might bring.

I’d like to start a practice of connecting with all of you by posting weekly. Each week, I’ll check in with something from the heart along with a photo that represents a snapshot of my life. I’ll tell you of the small wins I see and share the defeats as well. It’s quite possible that over time, you’ll see the structure of my website reorganized to better represent a path forward.

My wish for all of us this week are quiet moments, however many we can muster, where we feel centered. Let’s count the wins no matter how seemingly small because they are indeed significant.

We are indeed significant.

Best wishes for a smooth week,
Liz

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