2025 was a year that quietly asked everything of me. It wasn’t marked by loud victories or dramatic turning points, but by endurance, growth, grief, and moments of deep meaning that changed me in ways I’ll carry forward.
January began with heaviness and love intertwined. It was my sister’s first birthday in heaven always #38, always missed, always present in my heart. There was something surreal about marking that day without her here, learning how to celebrate and grieve at the same time. January also brought my final kidney surgery, closing a long and exhausting chapter. It felt like my body and spirit were both trying to heal, even while my heart was still very tender.
February brought a bright moment of pride and hope. Brooke was accepted into her education degree. Watching her step into the future she’s worked so hard for reminded me that even in the hardest seasons, life continues to unfold with purpose and promise.
March moved quietly. It wasn’t flashy or memorable on the surface, but it was a month of breathing, adjusting, and simply getting through. Sometimes survival is the achievement.
April surprised me with moments of validation I didn’t know how much I needed. Easter came with its usual mix of reflection and emotion, but it was also during April on Admin Day that I felt genuinely appreciated at work. It mattered more than I expected. Being seen, even briefly, gave me a small but meaningful sense of worth during a year when I often felt stretched thin.
May was full and emotional in the best and hardest ways. We traveled to Portland, Boston, and Colorado, marking our 23rd anniversary along the way. There was laughter, movement, and a reminder of how much life we’ve lived. The month was made even more special by Brooke graduating with her Bachelor of Arts in French and Music, with honors. Watching her walk across that stage was one of the proudest moments of my life a reminder that love, effort, and perseverance truly matter.
June was when the cracks started to show. Burnout crept in slowly, and like so many times before, I tried to ignore it. I told myself to push through, to keep going, to be strong even as my body and heart were asking for rest.
July brought celebration and reflection as Brooke turned 22. Another year of watching her grow into herself, another reminder of how quickly time moves and how precious these milestones are.
August was softer. My mom came to visit, and her presence brought comfort, familiarity, and grounding. There’s something deeply healing about being with the people who know you in all your seasons.
September was heavy with contrast. Brooke started her education degree an exciting new chapter while we also learned that David had stage 4 cancer. Joy and fear existed side by side. Life didn’t pause to let us catch our breath; it simply asked us to hold both.
October changed everything. David passed away, and with him, another piece of my heart broke. Losing my sister and then her husband within such a short time reshaped my world completely. Grief became louder, deeper, and unavoidable. Still, we took a small weekend trip for my birthday a gentle attempt to honor life even while mourning it.
November marked a brave step forward. I started a completely new career a fresh beginning after leaving behind what no longer fit. It was scary, unfamiliar, and necessary. It felt like choosing myself, even while still carrying so much loss.
December closed the year with family gathered for Christmas. It wasn’t perfect or painless, but it was warm, meaningful, and rooted in togetherness. The empty spaces were felt, but so was the love that remains.
2025 was not the year I imagined but it was a year that changed me. It taught me about resilience, about letting go, about starting again, and about how love continues even after unimaginable loss. I didn’t just survive this year. I learned, I grew, and I kept going. And that matters more than anything.
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Thanks for the blogging Love