It’s been a while since I’ve written, not because I didn’t have words, but because I needed the quiet.

Between the rhythm of work and caring for Sadie, I found myself craving stillness. I spent time simply being; reflecting, wandering in thought, and learning to find peace in the quiet space between what was and what’s next. Sometimes, the best kind of progress is made when we stop trying to measure it.

When Sadie finally started healing, I felt a little spark of readiness to rejoin the world again. So, I headed back to California, back to family, familiarity, and the people who fill my heart in ways only they can.

I soaked up time with my kids unhurried, ordinary moments that reminded me how grounding it feels to just be Mom. I celebrated birthdays with my niece and nephew (because who doesn’t love 21st birthday drinks and a baseball game) and spent long evenings catching up with some of my dear friends who have seen every version of me and still make me laugh until I cry.

And, of course, no California trip is complete without sitting in the chair of my forever stylist and friend, Denise Avallone, who somehow restores not just my hair, but my soul.

Coming home to Florida, I barely had time to unpack before my parents arrived for their first visit. There was something so special about showing them my new life here, this quieter, saltier chapter I’m slowly building.

We tested out new restaurants (some hits, some “well, at least the view was nice”), explored New Smyrna Beach, and even braved the blustery weather as a tropical storm spun off the coast. Mother Nature might have interrupted our beach plans, but it didn’t dampen our time together, if anything, it gave us an excuse to linger longer over good food and extra dessert.

Our evenings turned into long card battles — laughter, rivalry, and the occasional “are you sure that’s the score?” My dad’s the rule enforcer, my mom’s the quiet strategist, and lately, I’ve been the lucky one stacking the wins. Maybe this new life really is teaching me how to play my cards right.

And through it all, Sadie my loyal, brave girl, officially graduated from her bandages. She’s walking better now, with a noticeable pep in her still-limpy step. Watching her heal feels like its own small metaphor: sometimes we don’t bounce back perfectly… but we do keep moving forward.

It’s been a season of quiet renewal, of reconnecting with the people who shaped me, embracing new surroundings, and realizing that peace isn’t found in the noise of “what’s next,” but in the gentle gratitude of what is.

Here’s to healing, laughter, sunshine after storms, and walking forward, even if it’s still with a little limp.