My year started off in the same way that they all do. Promise of new year, new ideas, fresh start etc.

The first three months flew by with the kids in sports and fast forward to spring.

April I quit smoking. I had had enough of it. It helped that my guy, my mom and I did it all together.  I was excited as this was going to propel me into hiking season.

Hiking season this year will probably be the most memorable for me.  I began my high peak journey with my son and my guy at my side. Pushing me along. Encouraging me that I could do hard things. It was awesome. On off (non high peak) days, I hiked alone or with my children in the Southern Adirondacks.  It was a magical time.  A time that I will forever hold onto.

September came in with a trip to NY’s highest mountain, Mt. Marcy. I didn’t necessarily even want to hike it. It was just a spontaneous trip and we went.  We took this crazy ass 22 mile loop and walked out of the woods in the dark.  We rejoiced when we had finally gotten out of woods at our accomplishment and planned our next trip to Keene.

Ten days later I received the call that will haunt me for the rest of my life.  My guy’s Mom said that police had contacted her and he was dead.  DEAD. FUCKING DEAD…. Who the fuck, what the fuck.. what?!!!! Wait, What? Insert every swear word, guttural scream from the pit of hell, disbelief and shock that you can here.  This is the day Wendy, the girl I knew died right along with him.   Wendy, the girl who died of a broken heart was sure to be the headlines.

Ahhh, but life isn’t always that fair. Apparently, you do not get to die just because your heart and soul are ripped out of you.  No, you get to go through all the bullshit. You get to wake up everyday in this nightmare aftermath that you didn’t sign up for.

And every moment of every single day, you get to make a choice. You get to decide if you want to continue moving forward.

I chose to move forward. Kicking and screaming I am moving forward.  Some days that forward looks like sprinting like I am Usain Bolt and other days, I am that dude in the book of John that is lying next to the healing pool and needs to be nudged (kicked in the ass) to get up and get in the healing waters.

The point is that I am doing it.

And there are moments I just want to go back but you can’t.  My life has become one of constant surrender to what actually is, and not the fantasy wherein I get to take away the last three months…

But despite this all,

I am grateful for my life, I am  grateful to get another chance to get it right

I am grateful that I get to see my babies flourish

I am still here

Three months later

Still choosing love


Choose love and be peace,












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